


Casus Aliquis Pravus

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, F/M, Family, Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-30
Updated: 2011-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-25 02:02:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This wasn’t something to gossip about, dammit, this was her life.  This was her life falling apart right in front of her eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Casus Aliquis Pravus

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS FOR IT TAKES A VILLAGE!!! To start, I was informed by someone that my Latin in the title was wrong, it didnt translate properly into The Fall of the Depraved One. Oh well, no one is perfect...I loved it so I kept it. This just popped into my head when I heard a song on my iPod. I thought ‘how come there aren’t more Prentiss/Doyle crumbling relationship AUs?’ I decided to write one of my own but it grew into so much more than that. I took some of the plot for It Takes a Village and twisted it for my purposes. That was a lot of fun.

Emily grabbed the vibrating cell phone from the nightstand. She was lying in bed in the dark. The headache she had needed Vicodin but she settled for Motrin. It was starting to do its job. The last thing she was in the mood for was talking on the phone. But when she saw the name, Emily sat up in bed and answered.

“Agent Hotchner?”

“Emily, are you alone?” he asked.

“What?”

“Are you alone? Is Ian there with you?”

“He's downstairs. Why are you asking me that?”

Her stomach dropped. They usually wanted the parents together when they delivered the bad news. Even though she suddenly felt more nauseous than before, Emily thought her heart would break or she wouldn’t be able to breathe if something happened to her children. While Declan didn’t come from her womb or nurse at her breast, he was her child just the same.

“I need to talk to you Emily, and I need to do it without Ian. Is there anyway you can get out of the house without casting suspicion?”

For the past 72 hours, Emily felt as if she was stuck in a suspense film. Instead of the director yelling ‘cut’, the plot just thickened. What was going on?

“I could walk the dog. I always do that before bedtime anyway.”

“Good. Walk up three blocks and turn the corner. A black SUV with tinted windows will be waiting for you.”

“Are you going to tell me what this is about?” she asked, thinking the whole thing sounded way too Hitchcock.

“I’d rather do that when we were face to face.”

“My son is out there somewhere. Do we really have time for these games, Agent Hotchner?”

“There's a group of very experienced and formidable agents searching for Declan. Will you please meet me?”

“Of course. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

Emily hung up the phone. She was dressed in grey tights and a white camisole. Throwing on a Yale sweatshirt and her sneakers, Emily left the bedroom. She checked the twins’ room…Lauren and Leith were sound asleep. Walking down the back stairs, she found Ian in the kitchen on his laptop. He had already dipped into the Jameson’s.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Emily prayed he wasn’t drunk but wouldn’t be able to blame him if he was. There were still police and FBI agents in their living room and dining room. They were waiting for a ransom call that had yet to come. For the most part they all but ignored Emily and Ian; they pumped the parents for as much information as they could at the beginning. If Emily startled him, Ian showed no response. In eight years, she thought she may have startled Ian twice.

“I'm trying to distract myself from the goddamn FBI not working hard enough to bring my boy home. I mean they're just sitting in there,” he pointed toward the living room. “And Declan is gone.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh really?” he looked at her with glassy eyes. “It’s been three days, Emily. Where is our son?”

“I don't know.” She shrugged. “Thankfully I have no experience in this department. We don’t know how long it'll take.”

As she came closer, Ian minimized his screen and pulled up some spreadsheets. Emily stood behind him and massaged his shoulders. He was so tense but so was she. Ian groaned, his head lolling back against her.

He missed her touch more than he thought possible. If only she would let him make her feel good again. Ian had no idea how to get his wife and family back. Just when he thought it couldn’t get worse, his boy was snatched from under his nose.

“I thought you had a headache, babe. You don’t need to be catering to me.” Ian kissed her hand.

“I need to walk the dog.” She replied. “He shouldn’t be in all night.”

“I’ll let him run in the side yard. You need to go back to bed. How much have you slept in the past three days?”

Sleep was something Emily would worry about when her son was back in her arms. She also had a funeral to plan and one to attend. Thinking about that made it hard to breathe. They were standing in the very room where it happened.

“Ian, I'm fine.” Her hands slid off his shoulders. “I need to go out and breathe some air. It'll be good for me. And Bastian needs a walk. He senses something is wrong; he's been antsy for days.”

“He's a fuckin Beagle, Emily.”

“They are one of the most intelligent, perceptive breeds. I just need to take a walk. Don’t try to talk me out of it.”

“Carry your stun gun.” He replied.

“Ian, we live in Fairfax County for God’s sake.” She rolled her eyes as she walked away.

Ian took hold of her wrist, stopping her movement. He stood from the chair and pulled her into his arms. Emily held on just as tight as he did.

“If anything ever happened to you…” his voice caught but Ian Doyle would rather die than cry. He sucked it up but held her tighter. “Listen to me for once. Just take the damn stun gun.”

“I’ll take it.” Emily replied nodding.

She took his face in her hands. He needed a shave, and probably a shower. He was scruffy and his blue eyes were full of both rage and sadness. Closing her eyes, Emily pressed a kiss on his mouth. Ian coaxed her lips open with his tongue. They held the kiss until they were breathless.

Then she moved out of his arms, whistling for the dog. Two year old Bastian walked into the kitchen. He definitely wasn’t his usual peppy self. Emily grabbed the leash from the kitchen wall as Ian sat back at his computer. Attaching it to the beagle’s collar, she headed out of the room.

“I’ll be back in 20 minutes or so.” she said. “I have my cell phone…and my stun gun.”

“Thank you.” he nodded, blowing her a kiss before going back to his laptop.

She walked past the police and finally got out of the house. It would be a wonder if Agent Hotchner was still waiting for her. The mid-October night air felt good on Emily’s flushed skin. She was starting to feel the walls closing in on her.

There was mist falling; it couldn’t quite be called drizzle. Emily ignored it and walked the three blocks. The streets of Poplar Heights were quiet. That was nothing new. Sometimes the silence drove her crazy…tonight it was even more so.

Emily spent much of her childhood traveling the world with diplomatic parents. Her life was anything but quiet. She’d lived in the DC Corridor suburbs for six years; she did it for her children. Her heart still screamed for urban sprawl.

She turned the corner and sure enough the SUV was there. Bastian immediately moved toward it; the scent inside must have been familiar to him. The back window rolled down and FBI Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner came into sight.

“Get in.” he said.

“I don’t have a lot of time.” Emily let the dog climb in before her. “There's only so long I can walk the dog.” She tried to pull Bastian off him. “Sorry, he's friendly and gregarious.”

“Its alright.” Hotch scratched behind his ears. “My parents never let me have one growing up.”

“Ditto. My mother was a cat person.”

Hotch smiled but his face soon turned serious again. He knew he didn’t have much time and this had to be done.

“You and Ian have been together for eight years?” he asked.

“Give or take, yes. Declan was three months old when I met him and 16 months when we got married. I'm the only mother he's ever had.”

“Do you know what happened to his biological mother?”

“She died in childbirth.” Emily replied. “She and Ian weren't married. They weren't even lovers; they just got together from time to time. When she got pregnant she wasn’t going to keep the baby but Ian wouldn’t hear of it.

“He kept a tight leash on her for nine months because she was a party girl. He didn’t want her poisoning the fetus. While in childbirth with Declan, she suffered a pulmonary embolism which led to a massive stroke. Why?”

“And what do you know of Ian’s business?” he asked, ignoring her question.

“Look Agent Hotchner, I hope to God that I'm not one of those clueless wives. Ian is in international finance and holdings. I know numbers often get carried and zeros get added. I know my husband is very successful. Because of that someone may have lost everything. I'm sure there are those who wish him ill but I pray that none of them thought taking Declan was the way to go about it. Do I think Ian is Bernie Madoff, no I don’t, but I won't pretend to be completely ignorant to how the world works.”

“Does the name Pravus Unus mean anything to you?”

“No.” Emily shook her head. “It means The Depraved One in Latin; I know that.”

“Forgive me for dropping this on you like this but time is not on our side. Ian Doyle is not a businessman, he's a terrorist. The State Department has had the man known only as Pravus Unus on their radar for over 15 years but he's untouchable. His specialties are guns and bomb making…he sells to the highest bidder. He used to work almost exclusively for the IRA and their supporters but branched out post-9/11. He is quite wily and very dangerous. The reasons and the list of people who may have harmed Declan just got really long.”

Emily didn’t mean to laugh but she couldn’t help it. A manic sound came from her diaphragm. Tears of mirth creased her eyes. What the hell…this just went from a suspense thriller to a comedy.

“Oh my God, you are so off. I know he's not Cliff Huxtable, but a globetrotting terrorist. Oh please. The man took three months off international travel last year to coach Declan’s baseball team. I'm not going to say he didn’t at one time support the IRA; my husband is Belfast born and bred. But he left the revolution behind decades ago. You have him mixed up with someone else.”

“I don’t.” Hotch shook his head.

“Look, the only thing you need to be doing is bringing my son home.” Emily pulled Bastian toward her. He’d been resting comfortably on Hotch’s lap. “My husband’s business is really none of yours. I know that you have to go through our lives with a fine-toothed comb. We’ve done our best to accept that. But there is no way he's a damned terrorist. That’s pure insanity. I have to get back.”

She opened the car door and stepped out onto the curb. It was really raining now, not pouring but falling steadily. Emily was still going to walk the longer way home…Bastian had to go. With her sneakers making quick steps, she made it back to the house in 12 minutes. She let the dog in but stood on the porch and tried to breathe.

Pravus Unus. Bombs, guns, terrorism…she didn’t believe a word of it. She knew Ian. OK, she wasn’t privy to all of his business dealings but they both made a conscious decision about that. There were times Emily wondered when the FBI’s White Collar division would show up and ask her too many questions that she couldn’t answer. But a terrorist, her husband couldn’t be a terrorist.

She couldn’t be so blind not to notice that kind of thing. Emily read the paper, got her news online; she was up on current events. This could not be happening. It wasn’t happening. Agent Hotchner was way off…they were grasping at straws. That meant they were no closer to finding Declan than three days ago.

They might never find her son. Meanwhile, they were going to slap a scarlet letter on Ian. Regular people had been hurt because they shared names with less desirable types. She couldn’t let Ian take priority now…Declan was her top concern. He had better be the FBI’s or a supposed terrorist would be the least of Aaron Hotchner’s worries.

“Babe?” Ian opened the security door. “What are you doing out here?”

“I can't go back yet. I just…I need air Ian. I'm trying to breathe but I can't. I feel like I'm drowning in quicksand.”

Emily couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Ian could always tell when she was being deceptive; it had been that way from the beginning. She could usually tell with him as well but complimented him more than once on his poker face. He told her it was a Belfast thing. Emily wondered how many other things were Belfast things. She couldn’t believe she was even contemplating this. Her husband was not a terrorist.

“I usually don’t encourage this behavior.” Ian came to stand beside her, handing her the pack of Ziganov black cherry flavored cloves.

“You hate when I smoke.” She still couldn’t meet his eyes. Emily’s hands shook as she slipped a clove between her lips and lit it.

“But I love you so I tolerate it.”

“Ian…” now she looked at him.

She really looked at him and wondered if anything Agent Hotchner said could be true. Emily never once suspected her husband of being up to anything nefarious. Some wives could say they had pushed the thoughts out of their minds. Emily never even thought about it.

Ian was as cool as a cucumber. He had an even temper and an easygoing smile. She knew he probably didn’t look that way across a negotiation table but that was his job. She knew the few times she heard him cursing in Gaelic on the phone Ian told her it was business with his cousin Sean in Belfast.

He was never cagey, shady, or mean. He didn’t lie, deceive, or give her any real cause for suspicion. Even when he was far away, Emily could always reach him by phone. He didn’t always put the family first, which was part of the reason they were estranged, but he would never put them in danger. Would he?

“What's the matter?” he asked, stroking her cheek.

“Have you ever, in your business, hurt someone so much that they would go after our son?”

“I'm sure I have. My business can be cutthroat. That’s the main reason I work so hard to keep my business separated from my family life. You and the children are protected from that quagmire. It’s my business, Emily. If someone wants revenge, they can take it out on me. Coming after my family is unacceptable.”

“What if…?”

“Then they’ll never rest.” Ian didn’t even let her finish the sentence. “My family is off-limits. If anyone harms Declan in the name of harming me, they're going to wish they just killed me and got it over with.”

“I just want my son back.”

“Me too babe.” Ian wrapped his arms around her from behind.

He brushed her raven hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck. Emily quivered when his tongue ran over her skin. Ian knew that quiver almost better than anything. He wanted to feel it without clothes. He wanted her body pressed against his.

He wanted to be deep inside of her and feel Emily dig into his hips. He wanted her back to arch and her collarbone to sweat. He wanted to feel his balls draw close to his body before filling her. Ian hadn't heard her whimper, cry, or shout his name in months. He needed to hear it. He needed to hear something other than the demons in his head shouting that this was somehow his fault.

“Babe, I need you.” Ian held Emily tighter as she took her last inhale of the clove.

“I'm right here.” She whispered.

“I need you, Emily. I just want to be close. I want to feel something other than dread. Please don’t turn me away.”

“I’d never do that.” she turned in his arms. “You know how much I love you.”

“I miss you so much.” Ian caressed her face, giving her Eskimo kisses. “I miss my kids…I miss home.”

“I don’t want you to say you'll change because Declan’s gone. Then when he comes home you slip right back into the old ways.”

“No,” he shook his head. “When he comes home I'm never letting you guys go again. I’ll slow down; I swear to God. I love you too much to lose you. I've known that since you asked me to go.”

“I love you too.”

She kissed him, softly at first and then more passionately. Emily moaned as he pulled her closer and took control of the kiss. She could feel it right under the surface of his skin. It was flowing through him like blood. He had to have her; wanted to take her.

Emily didn’t want to be taken. She wanted to share this moment…wanted it to be amazing for both of them. It was always amazing. Emily appreciated some things never changing. Sex wasn’t the reason there had been problems in the marriage. Lies weren't the reason either. Emily knew Ian never lied to her.

Maybe she just hadn't been asking the right questions. Maybe she didn’t want to know. For the first time in her marriage, she pushed the thoughts out of her mind. How dare Aaron Hotchner even put them there after all she’d already been through?

Emily didn’t want to think anymore tonight. She just wanted to be in Ian’s arms. It had been so long, six months since she asked him to go. The couple managed to stay cordial but weren't intimate. That was going to change…it needed to change.

***

Neither of them wanted to rush, though the clothes came off quickly. Neither of them gave a damn that there were at least two Fairfax County Sheriff’s deputies and two FBI agents on the floor below them. Right now the only two people in the world were Emily and Ian. It was always that way when they were passionate, from the very first time. They were playful and sexy in bed. It wasn’t like that tonight though.

The clothes were gone, no barrier between them. Ian wanted to touch his wife, wanted to feel and explore her skin. Emily was such a unique treasure to him. Eight years in and there was still something to find…something to behold.

He knew all of her curves. He knew her scars and blemishes. He knew how to make her nipples hard and exactly when her eyes were going to flutter closed. He knew where to kiss, how and when. He knew what made her moan his name and what made her scream it.

All Ian wanted was to connect. He wanted them to experience each other on the deepest human level. He wanted their two souls to be bared as if it were the last time. It might be, they didn’t know. He could lose her just like he’d lost everything else in his life.

It had never been his intent to be a family man. To be sure, he was smitten with Emily Prentiss the first time he laid eyes on her. He didn’t even want to go to the bar that night…but business was business. She was there with friends and their eyes met across a crowded room. That kind of silly shit only happened in the movies.

Ian thought he might get lucky when she agreed to meet him at his hotel bar for a nightcap later. He was disappointed when she wouldn’t join him in his room. Emily Prentiss wasn’t that kind of girl. He thought every girl could be that kind of girl. From that moment on he got a lesson in women from the first one who ever mattered to him.

Almost a decade later she was his wife. She was his world. She bore his babies and nursed them at her breast. She healed his wounds and intertwined her soul with his until they were one. He truly believed that. Emily, and their family, was everything to him.

That’s why it hurt so much to be on the other side of the door. He’d seen families crumble; had been a member of one himself. That couldn’t happen with his. He needed them, they were his life breath. They were his haven in a heartless world.

She kept him human when he was often close to slipping away completely. He wanted to do that for her. He wanted Emily to know that all she had to do was hold on. Someone loved her. Someone would catch her and she wouldn’t fall. He would take all the bullets, all the blame, all the bad shit; she would be protected.

“Mmm, Ian.” Emily’s back arched as his hand, still rough to the touch after years of living the fat cat life, stroked her to climax.

It had been so long, so long since his touch set her on fire. They’d always had a good sex life but lately it felt as if it was just another job for him. He had so many. Emily never wanted to become one of them. There was a time when the two of them couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

They would have sex any and everywhere…it was hot. She’d been in a few relationships, had lovers and one-night stands. No man was like Ian Doyle. He was passionate; the one thing he always was was passionate.

He treated her body like a finely tuned instrument and played it like a virtuoso. The connection of their bodies didn’t happen overnight but it happened quickly. Once they became intimate, there was probably no going back whether Emily wanted to or not. Falling in love with him was easy. Falling in lust with him was undeniable.

“I love you so much, Emily.” He caressed her face as she trembled against him. “Whatever happens, you'll always know that.”

“Just make love to me, Ian. Don’t say anything else; let me feel it. Let me feel you.”

He wanted to turn away from her, from the intensity of her gaze. She had him, like a deer in headlights, from that first night. All he could do was lift her thighs, spread them wide, and take her. They both needed it to feel so good that it hurt.

Ian needed to hear his skin slap against hers. He needed to feel her short nails dig into his back and her breasts press on his chest. He needed to groan her name as if this might be his last breath; his happiest. There was a nightmare outside but for just a moment they weren't a part of it. This was beautiful; this was their love. This wasn’t the cold, cruel world, it was his heaven.

The Gaelic swear words came; they always did when he was close and it was intense. It wasn’t often that Ian was on top. Missionary sex had its moments…sometimes he liked the power trip. But usually he preferred Emily to ride. He wanted to see everything as he made her come.

He liked taking her from behind too; it had always been one of their favorite things. She wanted to be a bad girl and he wanted to let her be. Tonight was totally different. Ian couldn’t put his feeling into words, not even the words tumbling from his lips as his fingers stroked his wife’s clit.

As she panted his name, whimpering for release, Ian bit her neck. Emily climaxed; crying and holding back a scream. It wasn’t the first time he branded her. They both loved to leave marks for the other to see in the morning. He licked the tiny drops of blood that formed around the wound.

“Oh God, oh my God, Ian!”

“I love you.” he whispered into the crook of her neck as he thrust deeper, deeper, so deep he swore they would fall straight through the floor and into the living room. “I love you, I love you, goddamn I love you so much! Emily, Emily, ohhh Emily!”

He shook violently, as if he was having a seizure. Emily just pulled him closer and let him fill her. The waves of desire wouldn’t stop rippling. It was almost like a storm…thunder and lightning right there between them. She cried, sobbed a bit, and Ian did too.

He couldn’t stop and after a while he stopped trying. Emily just held him close, sobbing and shaking, as he lay deep inside of her. She stroked his hair, his back, whispering gentle things that he couldn’t hear over the sound of his own howls. Only once in his life did he cry in front of her.

Ian couldn’t help it now and he couldn’t stop it. She didn’t think he was weak; to her it made him stronger. She made him stronger. Ian hoped to God that she truly knew that. All the things he never said, and after all this time there were still a few, he hoped she knew them.

***

It was a beautiful Saturday morning. Emily stood on her back deck with a cup of coffee. She looked at the sky and wondered where her little boy was this morning. She knew where he should be. They were all supposed to be down at the baseball field…Declan’s team was in the playoffs.

Ian was still helping to coach along with one of the other fathers, Sam Kassmeyer. Ian actually liked Sam, and he didn’t like people. He especially didn’t like cops and Sam was a U.S. Marshal. But somehow the men managed to get along and the Doyles even had the Kassmeyers, Sam and his wife Jessie, over for dinner a few times.

But Declan wasn’t playing baseball this morning. Emily had no idea where he was and the hole in her heart grew with each passing hour. Her parents had come earlier to pick up the twins. Her stepmother didn’t think this place, where something traumatic happened and was now filled with cops, was the best place for four year old girls. They could form memories and Natalie Prentiss didn’t think those were the kind her granddaughters needed. As much as Ian didn’t want to be separated from them, he agreed when Emily insisted.

They would all be reunited soon. He said those idiot federal agents weren't going to find his boy but he was. He would find Declan and everything would be alright. Neither his wife nor her stepmother asked how he planned to do that. Emily wasn’t dumb; in Ian’s business it wasn’t hard to know unsavory characters. She wasn’t going to worry herself how it got done…she just wanted her baby back. Consequences were for people who felt they had options.

“Emily,” Agent Aaron Hotchner walked across her yard and up to her porch.

“What are you doing here?” Emily asked. “Do you have any information on Declan?”

“We’ve got some new information that’ll be very helpful to this case, yes.”

“Well what is it? Why are you being so vague?”

“What happened to your neck?” Hotch asked.

“What?” her hand went up to the wound there. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter.”

“Are you hurt, Emily?”

“I'm not hurt, dammit. Tell me what you know.”

“There are five federal agents here right now to arrest Ian.” He said.

“What?” her face went from hopeful to angry. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your husband is a terrorist.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. My son is missing and you're starting a witch hunt against his father. You're a son of a bitch.”

“Emily…”

“Ian!” she turned, rushing into the house with Hotch on her heels. “Ian!”

He was coming out of the shower, towel around his waist and one running through his short hair. His wife was right; it did make him feel better. Well it made him feel cleaner. Nothing but getting Declan back would make him feel better. And now his girls were gone too because of this. Keeping them safe was his priority but he didn’t want to be separated anymore. Ian was quite surprised to see five FBI agents dressed in Kevlar with guns drawn when he walked into his bedroom.

“What the fuck is going on?” he asked.

“Put your hands up, Doyle.” Agent Derek Morgan said. “Drop the towel and put your hands on top of your head.”

Ian did as he was told. The last thing that needed to happen was him being shot to death. Then Declan would just be out there. He clearly wasn’t the priority to these clowns.

“Someone want to tell me what's going on?” he asked, cool as a cucumber when his hands went up. “I surely hope my boy isn’t be eviscerated while you're putting me under arrest for nothing.”

“Our country doesn’t think terrorism is nothing.” Derek replied. “Ian Doyle, you're under arrest for terrorism, murder, illegal sale of firearms and bomb making materials, money laundering, and the list goes on. You have the right to remain silent…”

“Can I put on some pants while doing it?” Ian smirked.

“You think this is funny?”

“That five Feds are in my bedroom while my boy is out there somewhere, fuck no I don’t think its funny Agent Morgan. I know my rights; allow me to dress.”

“Where are your clothes?”

“There should be a pair of sweats and a tee shirt in the top drawer.”

Morgan opened the drawer, pulling out some track pants and a black tee shirt. He threw them on the bed.

“Hurry up.”

“May I have some privacy?”

“Get dressed now Doyle or your ass is going in a towel.”

Sighing, Ian turned his back. He pulled on the sweats before dropping the towel. Then he put the tee shirt over his head. Within seconds, the Feds swarmed him and got him handcuffed. His wife rushed to him when then got him downstairs.

“Ian, what the hell is going on?” she asked, caressing his face.

“Babe, I…”

“No,” Emily put her fingers over his lips. “Don’t say a word to anyone without a lawyer present. I’ll call the lawyers. This is going to be OK.”

“I don’t know. Just make sure when they’re done burying me they're not doing the same to Declan. Call Sean…I need him here.”

“Of course.” She looked at Derek. “Where are you taking him?”

“Quantico. You can come too.” Derek looked at the other agents. “Get him out of here.”

“Ian…”

“Emily, whatever they tell you doesn’t matter. All that matters is you and our family. That’s all that ever mattered. The rest is just the rest.”

They dragged him out and into an SUV for all the neighbors to see. Dammit, this would be all over Falls Church before lunch. Turning back to Aaron Hotchner, she slapped him viciously across the face.

“You bastard! Go ahead and add assaulting a federal agent to the list of charges you're probably trumping up against me now.”

“The first one is free, Emily…but only the first one. I know you're upset.”

“You know I'm upset? Where is my son? What the hell is happening?” She ran her hand over her face, willing herself not to cry and actually winning the battle.

“I’ll take you to Quantico.” Hotch said. “You need to know everything that’s going on.”

“I'm not going anywhere with you.” she crossed her arms.

“It may be the last time you ever see Ian. I won't lie to you, him being in our custody is safer than the Northern Irish authorities getting their hands on him. Not to mention the other, less savory governments he's run afoul of over the years. Just come with me; the clock is ticking.”

Begrudgingly, Emily followed Hotch to another SUV. She got in and they started the drive to Quantico. On a Saturday morning the ride could take over an hour. Emily just sat with her arms crossed and looked out the window at the passing trees. It was like life flashing before her eyes.

Her son was gone; her husband a suspected terrorist. Did this happen in real life? Did this happen to people who went to Ivy League schools and came from powerful families? Did this happen to people with mostly happy marriages and really happy kids?

“I know you may never believe me,” Hotch broke the silence. “But Ian Doyle is a very dangerous man. He may not be dangerous to you but he's dangerous nonetheless.”

“I'm sure you have a ton of evidence to prove it.” she replied.

“We wouldn’t have arrested him today if we didn’t. Whatever he’s up to his neck in, past or present, is the reason your son was kidnapped. The only way we’re going to get true information that will lead us to finding Declan alive is to get it from him.”

“Why would he keep it? He wants Declan back too.”

“He could be keeping it from us so he can finish the job himself. He might not even realize the kidnapper is someone he crossed and thought was insignificant. Chloe Donaghy isn’t dead; that’s information we just obtained. She’s not dead and there’s a good chance she's in the U.S. with a fake passport and a partner.”

“That’s something you should take up with the TSA, Agent Hotchner, not me. I don’t even know who Chloe Donaghy is.” Emily looked at him. She was sick of him and his know-it-all shit.

“She's Declan’s biological mother, Emily, and she's not dead. We don’t know where to find her but she's not in a cemetery somewhere.”

“I'm sure Ian had good reason to say she was.”

“Are you even sure Declan is his child?” Hotch asked.

“Fuck you…you don’t know my husband or my son. He’s just like his father. I don’t care if she isn’t dead but if she harms my little boy she’ll wish she was. If you can dig up all kinds of supposed dirt on my husband, you should be able to find her yourself.”

“I don’t know if we have that kind of time. Declan has been gone for approximately 86 hours. He could be halfway around the world and lost to us by now. She may have already killed him. I don’t want you to lose hope but when I tell you we’re down to the wire…”

Emily didn’t want to hear anymore. If Chloe loved him at least she knew that Declan was safe. But everything Ian every told her didn’t suggest that. Of course maybe everything Ian ever said was a lie. She didn’t know what to think anymore. Not once in all of her worse-case life scenarios, and people would be surprised to know that Emily Prentiss had quite a few, did this ever come up. Who would've thought that coming home for a nice dinner with family could end up like this?

***

  
**Tuesday, October 18, 2011**   


Emily was late getting home on Tuesday evening. She wasn’t supposed to be but sometimes that’s the way things happened. She was in meetings most of the day and work had to be done. There were days when her job, Executive Director of the International Women’s Equality Alliance, didn’t have hours. Tuesday was definitely one of those days.

Emily planned to leave work early, around 5:30. She wanted to have dinner with her three kids and their godfather, Tom Kohler. He was one of Emily’s few close friends. They'd known each other since their days together at Yale.

Tom had been a fixture at their home since Emily asked Ian to go six months ago. While it initially caused strife between the two men, Tom had since become a comfort for the kids. In the end, Ian realized he wasn’t competition. He would always be a friend to both Emily and him.

Emily called Tom at five, when he was heading to her house from his job at the State Department. He laughed when she told him what was going on.

“Why are you laughing?” she asked.

“We’ve been planning this for over a week.” He said.

“I know, and I'm sorry Tom. I want you to go there. Louise and the kids would love to see you. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Its five now…no later than six I promise. Six thirty tops.”

“OK.”

“Don’t sound so skeptical Mister. You know I rarely have late nights anymore. I may as well get all of this done while I'm here. But I’ll be there, I promise.”

“I’ll see you there. Do the kids know you're going to be late.”

“I left a voicemail for Louise. She was probably busy chasing the girls when I called. I have to go now, see you soon.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later.”

Emily hung up the phone and went straight back into the paperwork. She wanted to get back to work because the faster she got it done, the faster she could go home to her family.

000

Time got away from her; Emily didn’t mean for that to happen. It was after seven o’clock when she drove down Barbour Court toward her house. She lived in one of those ‘safe’ neighborhoods. At this hour during the school year, there wasn’t a whole lot of activity going on in the cul-de-sac.

There were front doors open, Emily able to see inside to televisions or people having snacks in their living room. She wanted to get to her kids. She’d surely missed dinner but there was still time for a story before bed. There was definitely time for hugs. Nothing made Emily feel better than hugs.

Pulling into her driveway, she was surprised to see the house dark. That didn’t make any sense at all. There were always lights on in the Doyle house. Three children lived there, one was almost eight and two were four. Darkness meant bumps, bruises, or worse. She didn’t think it had ever been dark for the past six years.

Maybe no one was home but that didn’t make a lot of sense either. It was nearly the twins’ bedtime. It was possible that Tom took them for ice cream but they would've been back by now. Emily grabbed her cell from the console and called Tom. It went to voicemail. She called Louise and the same thing happened.

She didn’t like this at all. She got out of the car, walking to her front steps and up to the porch. It only took a few seconds to see something was horribly wrong. The security door was closed but the front door had been kicked in and then pushed up. Emily’s heart began to beat rapidly.

What was going on? Her first instinct told her to rush into the house and make sure her children were alright. Her second instinct said to back away and call the police. She listened, backing down the steps and then running across the street. She rang Nora’s bell and waited for someone to answer the door.

“Emily?” Nora pulled her door open. “Is everything OK?”

“No, its not. Let me in Nora, I need you to call the police.”

“What's happening?”

She pushed the security door open and pulled Emily in.

“Something is going on over at my house…the door has been kicked in. I can't reach Louise on the phone. Something is very, very wrong and I don’t know where my children are.”

“Jason?” Nora shouted toward the kitchen. “Call the police; something’s wrong at Emily’s house.”

“What?” Jason Gideon came out of the kitchen, looking at his wife and his neighbor.

The Bennett-Gideons had been the nicest to Emily and Ian when they moved in six years ago. The Poplar Heights neighborhood could be a little high falutin; new people weren't always accepted. Ian didn’t care about the snobs…he wanted a safe place for his wife and son to live. But the two professors brought them fruit and nuts to welcome them to the neighborhood.

They invited the Doyles over for cocktails and the occasional dinner. Ian wasn’t a social butterfly, unless it was for the purpose of making a deal. Still, Emily and Nora got close. Nora was also a working mother of two; Stephen was 13 and Sarah 11.

“Call the police, Jason.” His wife repeated. “Emily’s front door is kicked in and the house is pitch black.”

“I'm calling right now.” Jason went back to the kitchen and the wall phone.

“Did you just get home?” Nora asked, leading her friend to the couch.

“Yeah.” she nodded. “I should've been home. I was over two hours late. My house shouldn’t be dark, Nora. My children, the people I love should be there.”

“Where's Ian?”

“Um…work. I don't know really.”

“Are you sure he wasn’t supposed to be with the kids tonight?” Nora asked.

She was well aware of that the Doyles were separated. Emily wasn’t keeping it a secret. She loved her husband but after eight years had grown tired of coming last to all of his business. She loved that Ian was successful. She was proud of everything he’d done. But that didn’t mean she wanted him missing dinner, story time, and other important things in their children’s lives.

Emily also missed him in her life. In the last year of their marriage they’d nearly become strangers. She asked him to leave in March. She needed time to breathe, to think. Just having turned 40, Emily had to decide if she really wanted to keep living like this for the next 40 years.

“I'm positive.” Emily nodded. “Tom was heading here when I called him just after five. What the hell is happening, Nora?”

“The police will come.” she put her arm around her. “They're going to figure this out.”

“They're on their way.” Jason came back into the living room. He handed Emily a glass of water. “You said the door was kicked in?”

“It was pushed up but I could tell the frame was damaged. The security door was closed too. I don't know if it was locked because I didn’t touch anything when I saw the front door.” Emily sipped the water. “I didn’t want to contaminate…”

She couldn’t bring herself to say the crime scene. Her house couldn’t possibly be a crime scene. That’s where her children slept. It’s where she and Ian danced to Van Morrison and where she finally perfected her stepmother’s recipe for pot roast. It was her home.

Emily Prentiss never had a place that felt like home growing up. The only child of diplomats, she spent years traveling all over the world with her parents’ assignments. She was fluent in 5 languages, conversational in nearly 12, but she never had a real home. After tonight she wasn’t sure if she ever would again.

“The police are here.” Jason said.

He was looking out the window. Nora and Emily saw the lights as he was saying it. Stephen came running down the stairs at that moment.

“Whoa dad, there are cops everywhere.” He said. “What's going on? Is there a meth lab on the block, a brothel?”

“Go back upstairs.” His father’s voice was gentle but serious. “This is not a game.”

The preteen looked disappointed but obeyed. Jason stepped out on the porch as two officers approached. The other two were going into the Doyle home.

“Dr. Gideon?”

“Mrs. Doyle, well Prentiss…she's in here.”

“Ma'am, I'm Officer Watkins and this is Officer Taylor.” The male cop pointed to the female cop. “We need you to tell us exactly what happened.”

Emily relayed her story, as much detail as she could think of. She hadn't been in the house; she didn’t know what was going on. All she knew was that her children were supposed to be there with their nanny and Emily’s good friend. She knew her house was never dark and she knew the door was kicked in. Other than that she was just as clueless as they were. As she was answering some of their questions, a voice came over a crackling walkie-talkie.

“We have a body here.” The voice said. “White female, seems to be in her late forties. It looks as if she was beaten to death.”

“Oh my God,” Emily covered her mouth. “Louise?”

“Watkins, we need backup and an ambulance. There’s another person here, male, in his forties. Multiple stab wounds and beaten also. He’s hanging on by a thread. We’re getting a bus now. This is bad…it’s really bad.”

“Where are my children?” Emily demanded, standing up from the couch.

“Kelvin, are there kids there?” Watkins asked over the radio. “No, go to radio silence. I'm coming over.”

“I want to know about my children!” she exclaimed as he left.

“We’re going to find your children.” Officer Taylor tried to comfort Emily but it did little good.

She refused to cry but she looked to be minutes from detonation. No one in the room really knew what detonation was. Nora was a mother…she could venture a guess. She tried to give her some solace and actually thought it might have calmed her down some.

“I think I should call Ian.” Jason said.

“No!” Emily exclaimed.

“Who's Ian?” Officer Taylor asked.

“My husband.” Emily replied.

“And where is he this evening?”

“I don't know; we aren’t living together right now.”

“Do you think…?”

“Don’t even ask me that.” Emily said. “Ian would never hurt his children. He’s known Louise forever and a day and Tom was a friend of his as well. He didn’t do this, whatever this is.” She looked at Jason. “I'm not calling him until I can tell him his children are safe. He’ll just be angry and…no, Jason. We’ll wait.”

“Do you or your husband have any enemies, Mrs. Doyle?”

“We both work high profile jobs. I'm sure there's someone out there who doesn’t like what we say or do. I don’t think they're the kind of people who plan home invasions and kill nannies. Oh God.”

She put her face in her hands. Emily couldn’t stop the tears anymore. Her neighborhood dissolved into blue and red lights. There were cops everywhere. There was an ambulance and soon an M.E.’s truck. She and Nora had moved out to the porch by the time they brought Tom out. She broke away from Nora’s grasp, rushing out to the street toward the EMTs.

“Tom? Tom, what happened to the children? Tom!”

“He’s non-responsive, ma'am.” One of the EMTs said as they rushed him into the ambulance. “We’ll be lucky if he makes it to the hospital.”

Emily just stood in the street as the ambulance roared off. So many people were on their porches looking, gawking. This wasn’t something to gossip about, dammit, this was her life. This was her life falling apart right in front of her eyes.

Nora dragged her back to the sidewalk but she refused to go into the house. So they sat on the front step with Officer Taylor close by. Emily assumed that was for support but knew she wouldn’t be able to offer anything. Nothing, but holding her children in her arms, would help. That voice came over the walkie-talkie again…so much for radio silence.

“We got two little girls in the master bedroom closet, unharmed.” He said.

“Bring them out.” Taylor said.

Emily jumped up again and rushed toward her house. Police stopped her at the yellow tape; she wanted to fight them but didn’t. Soon enough her four year old twins, Lauren and Leith, were in her arms. She held them, Nora helping her from hitting the ground.

Officer Taylor helped them back across the street and took them inside the house. Emily sat on the couch with her girls, just hugging and kissing them. She still had no idea where Declan was but her heart had managed to calm just a bit. Officer Taylor sat across from them.

They were young but they might have seen something. She wanted to try to question them. When she asked Emily’s permission, she nodded. If they could help, she would definitely let them. Maybe they could tell the police where Declan was.

“What are your names?” Officer Taylor asked.

“Lauren.” The oldest by four minutes answered, bold and assured like always.

“Leith.” Her sister replied, more subdued.

“Why were you guys in the closet?”

“Declan played hide and seek.” Leith said.

“Do you know where Declan is?” she asked.

Both little girls shook their heads. Leith said her brother told them not to come out until he came back. He never came back. Emily asked the girls if they had dinner. Both said no, Lauren whining that she was hungry.

“I’ll get her something Emily.” Jason said, picking her up and taking her into the kitchen.

“Dinner was supposed to be at six.” Emily said. “If they didn’t have dinner…” she tried to take a deep breath but couldn’t. “I need to call Ian now.”

***

When Ian arrived a half hour later, state police, sheriff’s deputies, and the FBI now swarmed the quiet Falls Church neighborhood. An Amber alert had been issued for Declan James Doyle. Emily had already been informed that Tom Kohler was pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital. The couple was allowed a few minutes to offer each other comfort, under the watchful eye of law enforcement, and were then separated. The Bennett-Gideon home had become headquarters for the time being since the house across the street was a crime scene.

Nora and Jason both wanted to help but he left to take their two children to a hotel for the night. Emily was immediately moved into the kitchen to speak with Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner while Ian was moved to the study to speak with Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan. Emily was so grateful when Nora came with coffee and said smoking a clove was allowed. Then she left them alone.

“Mrs. Doyle…”

“Please just call me Emily. I didn’t take my husband’s last name and it’s uncomfortable.”

“OK Emily, I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner of the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

“What does this have to do with profiling?”

“We’re also part of the Quick Response Team when a child has been abducted. I need you to tell me how Declan’s day started.”

“I remember dancing in the kitchen to Neil Diamond.” Emily’s smile was sad. “It was _Cherry, Cherry_.”

“Did you take him to school?”

“No, I left right after that; it was about quarter to eight. Louise took him to school and picked him up everyday. In fact, there were only four of us with written permission to get him. Tom didn’t even have it, though we were working on changing that. So Louise took him.”

“Has there been anyone you’ve noticed lately given Declan unwanted attention or too much attention?”

“No.” Emily shook her head.

“Forgive me ma'am but I know you have a very busy job. Are you around enough to notice something like that?”

“Absolutely. I put my children first, Agent Hotchner. It’s not always easy or feasible but I'm there. If someone was looking at my child, or trying to spend time with him, I would know. If something like that got past me, it would never get past Louise. She's a…she was a pit bull when it came to the kids. She’d been with Declan since birth.”

“How long have you and your husband been separated?”

“I asked him to leave six months ago.” Emily replied. She finally took a clove from the pack and lit it. It wasn’t going to help, nothing was, but she could fake it until she made it.

“How did Declan take it?” Hotch asked.

“He was fine. To be honest, I told them that Daddy and I needed a little space but that everything would be OK. I didn’t want to end my marriage, Agent Hotchner. But I was tired of being taken for granted. If you're thinking of Ian as a suspect, it’s ridiculous. He had full access to the children whenever he wanted it. We still tried to do things as a family even during this separation.”

“And you didn’t notice Declan acting strange or being strange recently? Did he have any new friends; talk of new adults in his life? Was he the kind of kid who could be convinced to get into a car with someone he didn’t know.”

“No way.” she shook her head again. “Ian’s slightly paranoid about the children’s safety. That’s why we moved from DC to the cookie cutter suburbs. Declan is a great kid but he only has a few close friends. There’s Michael Kassmeyer…”

“Who did you just say?”

“Michael Kassmeyer; he plays baseball with Declan and his father is one of the volunteer parent coaches with Ian. And then there's Bobby Smith. They've been in the same class since kindergarten but Declan doesn’t play at Bobby’s house. His mother is a good woman but she has some depression issues and her husband is in prison for embezzlement.

“Poor Marlene is hanging on by a thread. Ian and I decided it wasn’t a good idea for Declan to play there. But Bobby is always welcome at our house. He and Declan are close; they’ve had multiple sleepovers and things like that.”

“Do you have any enemies, Emily? Does your husband? Can you think of anyone who would take your son?”

“I hope I don’t know anyone who would do this, Agent Hotchner. My nanny is dead; my close friend is dead. My son is gone and my daughters are traumatized. A monster did this and I've known some people in my time but no one like this.”

“And your husband is in…” Hotch looked down at his notebook. “He’s in international finance?”

“Yeah, Ian is CEO of the CK Trust. It’s an international holding and trading company. He and his cousin Sean started it over a decade ago. Sean still works out of Belfast but Ian travels all over the world doing business. He’s the face of CK.”

“Is there any reason Sean doesn’t leave Belfast?”

“Between you and me, and I love Ian’s cousin…he might be on house arrest or had his passport revoked for all I know. They're Irish Catholic boys from Belfast who grew up during The Troubles. They're not squeaky clean but they’re not bad people.”

“Could Ian have possibly crossed the wrong people in his business?”

“Sure.” Emily nodded. “But you'd have to ask him.”

“You know nothing of your husband’s business?” he gave her a skeptical look.

“Ian liked to keep it separate from our life together. I've hosted a few dinners and thrown back a few cocktails with clients but for the most part work is work and home is home for him.”

“Hotch?” a blonde walked into the room. “We’ve got something.”

“Please excuse me.” He stood and left the room.

Emily was shaking all over as she tried to smoke her clove. Someone had come into her house and stolen her child. It was impossible to believe. Why take Declan and not the girls? Was he still alive?

She knew the statistics on children abducted by strangers. Had this person stalked her son; hunted him? Was he a child molester or a sadist? Would years and years go by with the family never knowing Declan’s fate? Emily didn’t want her mind to go there.

How could she be thinking like this after a couple of hours? How was she supposed to stop the wheels in her mind? Powerless had never been her thing yet suddenly she felt more powerless than she ever had in her life. Anyone who knew Emily Prentiss’ history knew that had to be a bad feeling.

***

Emily wondered where Ian was but knew he couldn’t be her top priority. All she cared about was Declan, having her son back in her arms. After extensive interviews by both the police and the FBI, Emily and Ian left their neighbor’s house with their children. Ian dropped his family off with Emily’s parents in Chevy Chase, Maryland. The FBI was right behind…the grandparents needed to be interviewed.

Both Ambassador Gregory Prentiss and his ex-wife Elizabeth once, and might still have extensive ties in the Middle East. They’d actually lived there doing diplomatic work for most of Emily’s early childhood. If this was some wannabe terrorist cell they may have thought snatching the grandchild of someone with political clout as well as money could be very good for their cause. Nothing pointed in that direction but Hotch and his team planned to leave no rock unturned.

It was late now; Lauren and Leith were sound asleep in the room they always slept in when they visited Natty and Pop-Pop. Emily sat out on the back deck just staring into the dark night. Was Declan out there somewhere? Was he safe? Was he crying for his mommy and daddy?

No matter what happened, Emily prayed that he had no idea what happened to Louise and Tom. Maybe she should pray. It wasn’t something she was good at, lapsed Catholic that she was. God probably wouldn’t like it if she only came to him now in her hour of most desperate need. But He had to be used to things like that, didn’t He?

“I brought you some tea.” Her stepmother Natalie, who had been married to Gregory since Emily was 11, came outside on the deck. “It'll help you relax some but I doubt you'll get any sleep.”

“Thanks.” She took the tea but placed it on the table in front of her. It had been hours since she ate but Emily had no appetite. She didn’t have a headache; she really felt nothing at all. She couldn’t even feel herself walking or talking. Total numbness had set in.

“Where did Ian go?” Nat asked, sitting next to her at the table.

“I don't know.” Emily shrugged. “Nat, I really don’t care right now. I'm sure the FBI followed him, wherever it is.”

“There are some police outside tonight. They tapped our phones, just in case there's a ransom call.”

“Do you think there’ll be a ransom call?” Emily asked, lighting a clove. “It’s been hours.”

“I couldn’t even predict. I can't believe this is happening sweetie. I'm so sorry.”

“Tom’s dead, Nat. He’s one of my oldest friends and he's dead. Did he die protecting Declan? Did he know who took him but couldn’t get it out before death came for him? When I woke up this morning I had no idea this would be my day.”

“No one would ever think something like this.” Natalie took Emily’s hand.

There was no way to comfort her. She loved her kids so much…Emily always wanted to be a mother. She wanted to be cosmopolitan, successful, and have a happy family life. Not a lot of people succeeded with that but Emily did well. She loved Declan from the moment she laid eyes on him.

There were times in the beginning where Nat thought she might love Declan more than his father. She realized soon that wasn’t true but the stars definitely aligned to bring the two of them together. Ian never seemed like the family man type. He was a shark financier who traveled the world and surely left a trail of broken hearts in his wake.

He was downright soft when it came to her stepdaughter. She made him smile, laugh; she gave him two beautiful daughters. She loved Declan as if he were her own and as far as Emily was concerned he was. He’d been legally adopted by her just a few months after she became Mrs. Ian Doyle.

“I can't imagine someone we know ever doing this to us.” Emily said. “But the only alternative is too horrible.”

“What's that?”

“Someone was targeting Declan. Someone was watching him right under our noses.”

“Or someone knows that you have money.” Natalie said. “Someone knows you come from a powerful family or knows that Ian has a multi-million dollar business.”

“Then why not take the girls too? Oh God, I can't even believe I said that aloud.”

“The FBI is working on this Emily…”

“Yes, and they have such an amazing track record of doing things right.”

“They actually do.” Nat was gentle with her. She’d known Emily almost 30 years…it wasn’t hard to tell when she was steps from breaking down. This was especially because it didn’t happen often.

To the outside world, Emily Prentiss was a woman of steel. Those who knew her best wouldn’t say that was an act but it was one of her many masks. Life hadn't always been kind to her; she had vulnerabilities. “Sure, the press likes to highlight things like Waco but they bring home a lot of kids, Em. They’re gonna bring home Declan.”

“From your lips to God’s ear.” She whispered.

***

Sam Kassmeyer was surprised his doorbell rang at 10:30 at night. He was even more surprised to see his brother-in-law on the other side in full FBI agent mode. Aaron Hotchner was often in full FBI agent mode, just not at his house or at this hour.

“Aaron, what's happening?” Sam opened the security door.

“I'm sorry to come so late and without calling but this is important.”

“Come in.” Sam started walking back to the kitchen. “I just got home about a half hour ago and I was just gonna make some decaf coffee. I know it’s not the most appealing thing in the world but…can I get you some.”

“No, but tea would be good if you have it.”

“I certainly do. What’s up?”

Hotch and Sam had been friends for over a decade. It didn’t happen often but the two men helped each other on cases. Sam was the official U.S. Marshal liaison to the FBI. They were also brothers-in-law but that came after they’d known each other for a couple of years. Hotch set Sam up on a blind date with his sister-in-law Jessie.

It was pretty much love at first sight for the couple. They’d been married for about the same amount of time as Emily Prentiss and Ian Doyle. Hotch had been divorced from Jessie’s sister Haley for almost four years now but they had a six year old son, Jack. Sometimes things got complicated but the two men did their best not to let a good friendship, which came first, fall by the wayside. Hotch didn’t have a lot of friends.

“Declan Doyle was kidnapped tonight.” he said.

Sam’s hand stopped midair as he held a scoop of coffee. He turned to look at his friend.

“Are you serious?”

“I'm serious. I need to talk to you about the family. I was told by Declan’s mother that he and Michael are good friends.”

“They go to school and play baseball together. Declan has stayed over here a few times and we’ve dined with the Doyles.”

Sam turned on the coffeemaker before putting the teakettle on to boil. Then he joined Hotch at the kitchen table.

“Tell me about the Doyles.” Hotch said.

“What about them?”

“I learned from Emily that the couple is separated.”

“They’ve been separated for about six months. Ian surely doesn’t talk about it with me. We coached together over the summer. Every Saturday and Sunday we were together; games and practice alternated days by the week. He’s a quiet man but did a good job coaching the boys. We didn’t talk about personal stuff but he was cordial. We talked about our kids mostly.”

“What about the times you got together as a couple?” Hotch asked.

“He was rather quiet. Emily is great; she's funny and fun to be around. Ian is more closed off, let her be the life of the party. He talked a little about growing up, a story here or there about crazy clients, but no…I wouldn’t call him a friend.”

“Did you ever see him have a strange encounter with anyone? Have you seen him react violently toward his wife, Declan, or any of the other parents?”

“Absolutely not.” Sam got up as the kettle whistled. “He was an attentive, loving father. We had some real crazies out there on the diamond. There were times when dads had to be ejected out of the park.

“I saw Ian get loud with them but mostly for making their kids feel bad because they weren't perfect. Declan worshipped the ground his dad walked on and the feeling was mutual. I was surprised when Jessie told me that Ian and Emily were separating. They were in love, and it was obvious. It wasn’t an act for the other parents.”

“Did he ever tell you about his business?” Hotch asked.

“No, he never did anything like that. He's in international holdings, or some such. I figured, honestly, that he was a bit of a Madoff. It wasn’t any of my business…he wasn’t a fugitive I was trying to catch. I don't trust most men in that line of work but he was a good dad and a good coach.”

“If he was a Madoff type,” Hotch replied, taking his teacup. “Lots of people would be out to get him.”

“But take his son?” Sam asked. “Is there something you're not telling me?”

“The Doyle’s nanny and the godfather of the children were slaughtered tonight Sam. Police found the twin girls, Lauren and Leith hiding in a master bedroom closet. The girls said that Declan put them there. I can only assume he was keeping them from meeting the same fate.”

“You think he knew his kidnapper?”

“I don't know. I think he knew something very bad was happening. But if this was about revenge against Ian, or even Emily, why just take Declan? The Unsub could’ve killed everyone in the house. They could’ve taken all the children. We’re missing something. I don’t know what it is but its something. Is there anything else you can think of about Declan?”

“No,” Sam shook his head. “He's a normal seven year old boy. He turns eight next month; I know Emily is planning an elaborate pizza party for him. I just don’t know what else I can say. You do know he's adopted right?”

“What? No, I didn’t know he was adopted.” Hotch couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This just gave the story a whole new twist. Biological parents were out there somewhere? This just added a million new nameless and faceless suspects to the list.

“Well not entirely. Ian is Declan’s biological father but Emily adopted him after she married Ian. I honestly don’t even think Declan knows about it. For some strange reason I can't remember how I know. I never forget things but my mind is failing me tonight. I can guarantee Ian didn’t tell me; that would be too personal.” Sam ran his hand over his face. “It’s been a long couple of days; I'm sorry.”

“Was Doyle married to Declan’s mother?”

“I don’t know anything about it, Aaron. It might have been accidental that I even know he's adopted.”

“Emily Prentiss never mentioned it to me.” Hotch said.

“She probably didn’t think it was pertinent. She's been his mother his entire life.”

“Maybe.”

“Look, there are usually records for this kind of thing. And if there isn’t, I'm positive that Penelope Garcia will find what you guys need.”

“Yeah.” Hotch nodded. He sipped his tea.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to finish it. Tonight was going to be an all-nighter. It was already too late to call Jack and say goodnight. There would surely be repercussions for that in the morning. Hotch heard it all before and his ex-wife was usually right.

But there was another little boy out there tonight as well. Hotch needed to get him back to the family who loved him safely. So much more had to be investigated before he could even narrow down the suspect pool to something resembling reasonable. He had a feeling Declan Doyle didn’t have that kind of time.

***

“Hey.” Derek walked into Hotch’s office late on Thursday afternoon.

“Tell me what you have.” Hotch said when he closed the door. “I have Penelope following the money from CK Trust and digging into Ian Doyle’s life and personal finances. We pulled Lynch and he's looking for Declan’s biological mother. He’s also looking into Emily Prentiss’ past and Louise Murphy, the nanny. There are hundreds of trails that intertwine and no end in sight. At this point we have a better chance of getting good news from the Amber alert.”

“I went to the school with state troopers.” Derek replied. “Declan Doyle left early on Tuesday and the school was closed yesterday.”

“How come we didn’t know that?”

“Most likely the nanny picked him up and planned to tell his mother when she came home. He was complaining of nausea and lightheadedness. He wasn’t the only one…25 kids left early with illnesses. They closed the school at two to check for a possible CO leak since a handful of kids were from different classrooms. They kept it closed yesterday just to be positive. I think it was something else.”

“What?”

“Emily Prentiss said that only four people had written permission to get Declan from school. That means the Unsub couldn’t just go and grab him. He had to bring Declan out in the open.”

“Why not wait until after school?” Hotch asked.

“In a place like Falls Church, 3pm to 8pm is the heaviest traffic time. This is by road and by foot. There are too many potential witnesses. But the earlier time cuts the chances of being seen or caught by more than half. State troopers are pulling the surveillance video to see who was caught on tape at school. Just because they couldn’t get Declan doesn’t mean they couldn’t get into the school.”

“This is not a run of the mill kidnapping.” Hotch replied.

“We need to lean on these parents.” Morgan said.

“Doyle’s not the type to give anything up without a fight. You already interviewed him, you know.”

“Not even for his son’s life?”

“If he has the right connections, he probably thinks he can get Declan back himself. The Sheriff’s tail lost him on Tuesday but I can surely speak more with Emily.”

“Well I've got hours of tape to go through. We decided to go back two weeks. Falls Church Day School records everything.”

“I bet…that’s going to be to our advantage.” Hotch said. “Sam’s going to bring over a month’s worth of baseball games and practices. I think our kidnapper is on one of those tapes.”

“You know it but I have to watch it.” Morgan grumbled as he stood.

“Grab Reid, Anderson, and Amanda Gilroy from the Innocent Images Unit if you can. We could still be looking for a pedophile; she knows what to look for. You’ll have extra eyes.”

“Excuse me sir.” Penelope poked her head into the office. “I think I've found something.”

“Come in Penelope.”

“I was following the money, which was no easy feat. We’re talking everywhere from Lichtenstein to Lithuania. It’s insane the lengths people go through to hide money and transactions. But I got three hits that led me to some dangerous places.”

“Where?” Morgan asked.

“The 2007 bombing of the Odessa Hilton, the 1999 Gaza hostage crisis, and the 2009 Debrecen, Hungary train derailment.”

“What are you talking about?” Hotch asked, standing up from his desk.

“Ian Doyle is in finance and holding.” Penelope replied. “What if he’s holding bomb making materials and receiving finances for them?”

“Is he on any watch list you can find?” Morgan asked.

“This man is squeaky clean. Well, he had some issues in Belfast during the 70s and 80s but nothing that your average protestor wouldn’t have. And considering the police weren't exactly fair-minded to some of the Catholic youth, we can't rely on that. I had to do a lot of digging and dodging to find what I found. The paper trail is insane but there is a trail.”

“Keep digging.” Hotch grabbed his coat. “I'm going to talk to Emily Prentiss.”

“Do you plan to ask her if her husband lies down with terrorists?”

“No; I will ask her some more questions though. Does Kevin have anything on the biological mother?”

“He got stuck on the second birth certificate.” Penelope replied. “Actually, it’s the only birth certificate. Ian got it after the adoption so it states he is the father and Emily is the mother. If Declan was born outside of the U.S. this could take some time, sir.”

“Start with Belfast and work your way through based on where Ian was spending money around the time Declan was born. And dig hard into Louise Murphy. Emily said she’d been with Declan since birth. Unfortunately we can't question her but we can trace her life from 2000 to now. She definitely knew who the mother was.”

“I'm on it.” Penelope nodded and left the room.

“What the hell did we just stumble into?” Morgan looked at his boss.

“I have no idea but I surely hope the endgame isn’t the death of Declan Doyle.”

“Are we in over our heads?”

“Hold your breath Morgan…we’re about to find out.”

***

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Prentiss.” Hotch said, taking the tea Natalie Prentiss offered him.

“Emily will be right down, Agent Hotchner.”

“Has Ian been staying here as well, ma'am?”

“No.” she shook her head. “He dropped off Emily and the girls off and hasn’t been back since.”

“Do you know where he likes to go?” Hotch asked.

“He's been married to my daughter for almost eight years but I can't say that I do. Ian is a very personal man. I won't say secretive, I don’t get that from him, but personal yes.”

“You wouldn’t say he's secretive?”

“No. I also don’t think that Ian is shady if that’s what you're trying to ask me. Of course you can't truly say you know anyone, even those you love the most.”

“Good evening, Agent Hotchner.” Emily came down the stairs. “I'm sorry to have kept you waiting.”

“Its alright.” Hotch was on his feet when she walked into the room. He could smell the shower gel on her skin and the shampoo in her damp hair. She wore blue lounge pants and a Sugarcubes tee shirt. Slipper socks were on her feet.

“Nat, do you mind sitting with the girls? They’re watching some _Blue’s Clues_.”

“Of course not. There's hot water for tea if you want.”

“Thanks.”

Emily managed a small smile. She made herself a cup of tea before joining Hotch at the table.

“I hope you have good news, Agent Hotchner.”

“The only good news you want is that we've found Declan. We haven’t.”

“Do you have any decent leads?” she lit a clove. They were the only thing giving her some semblance of calm. It was an illusion but she’d take it at the moment.

“I interviewed Sam Kassmeyer while my partner spoke with Marlene Smith. First, I should let you know that Sam is my brother-in-law. That’s not a conflict of interest however.”

“I honestly don’t care if you two were married in Vermont, Agent Hotchner. If Sam can help then I’ll be happy. He and Jessie are good people and Michael is a great kid. He’s been a good friend to Declan.”

“Sam gave us weeks of tape from baseball games and practices.” Hotch replied. “We have agents scouring those tapes for someone who stands out.”

“You think Declan could’ve been stalked?” Emily asked.

“I do, but I don’t think it was a true stranger abduction.”

“What do you mean? I don’t follow.”

“While the Unsub…”

“What's an Unsub?” Emily asked.

“It means unknown subject. That’s what we call the person until we find out their identity. While this person may be unknown to Declan we’re thinking they might not be to you or your husband.”

“There is absolutely no way that anyone I've ever met, even the most horrible person, could murder two people and snatch a defenseless child.”

“What about Ian?” Hotch asked.

“I told you that you need to ask Ian those questions. He travels all over the world for business. I have no doubt he's met, and crossed, some unsavory characters. He doesn’t bring them home…I don’t know them.”

“The Fairfax County Sheriff’s Department lost track of your husband.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. He’s probably looking into this himself. Ian isn’t patient and this is about his family. I pray he doesn’t do anything stupid but if he brings Declan home I don’t care.”

“Did you know that Declan came home early from school on Tuesday?” Hotch asked.

“No.” Emily stopped fidgeting. She hardly realized she was doing it anymore. It was either fidgeting or jumping straight out of her skin.

“When was the last time you heard from Louise?”

“We talked at about 12:30 on Tuesday afternoon. I called home to speak with the girls. We were on the phone for ten minutes. I meant to call Declan after school but I got so busy. What time was he dismissed?”

“He was picked up at 1:45 complaining of nausea and dizziness. 25 other kids complained of the same symptoms.”

“Are you saying someone poisoned a whole group of schoolchildren just to get to Declan?” Emily asked.

“Yes I am.” Hotch nodded. “Getting him from school would've been impossible. During the evenings your house is full. In the middle of the afternoon it would just be Louise and the children. Not to mention a lack of foot and car traffic. That’s why we’re going through video tapes…it’s likely the Unsub is on there. We need to talk to Ian.”

“I can call him.” Emily replied. “Please don’t assume he's being uncooperative. Ian is just…Ian.”

“I'm doing my best to believe that.” Hotch gave a small, agreeable smile. It wasn’t a happy time and there was no use pretending it was. “Also, you’ll be able to go back home tomorrow afternoon. The crime scene has been thoroughly investigated, videotaped, and is in the process of being cleaned.”

“A part of me is so glad I didn’t walk through that door.” Emily said, shivering. “Maybe I can still think of it as my home and not the place where people I love were slaughtered. I don't know if Declan will ever be able to see it that way though.”

“Right now, wherever he is, it’s the only place he's dreaming of.”

“I know.” She nodded.

“One more question before I meet up with the state troopers assigned to the case. Sam told me that he thought Declan might be adopted but he couldn’t quite remember where he heard that.”

“Declan is Ian’s son. I adopted him when Ian and I got married. I'm the only mother he knows.”

“Thank you so much for your time.” Hotch stood. “Please have Ian call me immediately so we can ask him some follow up questions.”

“I will.” Emily stood too. “Bring my son home, Agent Hotchner. He has a family who loves him so much and we’re worried about him.”

“There's a group of people working night and day to do just that. Hold onto hope, Emily.”

She would try…and that was doing her best. Emily was too busy thinking of every person she’d angered in her entire life. This was how it happened in the movies. If she made some silly mistakes in her teens, the repercussions were spinning now.

She didn’t know how to make sense of that. Her cell phone ringing brought her out of the memories of stealing Andi Swann’s boyfriend in 11th grade at Hotchkiss. She didn’t like Mick Rawson, much less love him. He surely wasn’t worth something so awful.

“Ian?”

The sound of his name stopped Hotch in his tracks. He was about to leave but decided to stay and access the situation.

“Ian, is that you?”

“Are you, Lauren, and Leith alright?”

“We’re fine; still with Dad and Nat. Where are you?”

“I'm handling a little business, babe. I’ll be home in a little while.”

“The FBI wants to ask you some follow up questions.” Emily said. “Agent Hotchner is here now.”

“I’ll speak with him tomorrow. Tonight I just want to hold you and my girls.”

“Alright. Come home soon, love.”

God, how many times did Ian want to hear that over the past six months? Even when they had their cordial conversations Emily never said it. He waited but didn’t hear it. Now the words were there and his son was gone.

“I love you, Emily.”

“I love you too. Bye.” She hung up and looked at Hotch. “Ian will be available tomorrow for follow up questions.”

“Is he coming home tonight?” Hotch asked.

“Yes, but he needs to be with his family.”

“I understand that. I’ll send Agent Morgan around tomorrow to speak with him.”

“Of course.” Emily nodded. “Thank you so much Agent Hotchner.”

She extended her hand and Hotch shook it. She had a firm handshake; something about that made him feel good. Emily was strong woman…he didn’t know how strong she would have to be before this was over.

***

The phone alarm went off at ten of eight and he smiled. He set the alarm to remember something important. His brain was so addled that he was lucky to remember to set the alarm at all. There was pizza and wings in the conference room as members of his team scoured hours of video while investigating the disappearance of Declan Doyle.

The smells wafted under his closed office door. Hotch tried to ignore it as he went over the financials and other information Garcia left on his desk. His stomach growled but it would hold for a little while. He had something else to do first, and then he could eat.

Picking up his office phone and dialing a number he would never forget, Hotch listened to the phone ring three times before the familiar voice answered.

“Hello.”

“Hi Haley, it’s me. Did I catch him before bedtime?”

“Yeah, hold on.”

“Thanks.”

Hotch and his wife had been divorced for four years; it was still hard to talk to her. That was something that boggled his mind and broke his heart. He did talk to her, awkwardly; it always made him feel a hole in the pit of his stomach. She walked out on him one night while he was out of town, and she never looked back. After 25 years together Haley wanted an uncontested divorce and primary custody of their son, Jack.

25 years came down to one piece of paper and a signature. Some claimed it wasn’t about not loving him, Haley never said that herself. She said he cared more about the FBI than his family. She remarried a little too quickly for Hotch’s taste and he still sat in his office.

“Hi Dad!”

The ebullient voice of his six year old slowly filled the hole in Hotch’s heart. He always prayed he was a good father. It wasn’t as if he had the most shining example. Jack told him that he was but the kid was a little biased on the subject.

“Hey there buddy. I wanted to call before you went to bed tonight and just hear your voice. How's school?”

“Fine. I get to read _James and the Giant Peach_!”

“That’s a great book.”

“Yeah, and at recess I run fast so I never have to be it when we play tag.”

“Good job, Jack. I run really fast too.”

“You have to Dad, so you can catch all the bad guys.”

“That’s right.”

“When are we gonna hang out?” Jack asked. “I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too. This weekend I'm working on a really big case but next weekend will be all about the Hotchner men. I’ll pick you up on Friday…it’ll be great.”

“OK!” Jack exclaimed.

“I have to go, buddy. I just wanted to call to say goodnight, I love you, and I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you too. Sweet dreams; goodnight Dad.”

Jack made a kiss noise, Hotch did as well, and then the conversation was over. Almost four years and it still hurt. Marriages end, it was a fact of life. While he never thought his would fall victim, eventually the magic was gone. But losing access to his son was a pain that rarely went away.

Haley complained he was around even less than when they were married. Actually she complained about everything…how come he never noticed that before? But it was either work or wallow. Aaron Hotchner had been through enough…he wasn’t the wallowing type. There was always something to be done, even if much of it kept him from fulfilling his fatherly duties.

He needed to find a way to do both and do them right. If he couldn’t do that then there was no point. Sometimes Hotch needed reinforcements on all fronts. Pushing a number on his cell phone, Hotch made one more call.

“Hello.”

“Hi, it’s me. Are you home?”

“I'm about 10 minutes away. I'm sitting on the red light from hell, as a matter of fact. What's up?”

“I need an extra pair of eyes and some more brain cells.” Hotch replied.

“The brain cells, probably, but I'm not sure the eyes would be of much use to you at this hour.”

“I'm pulling you in, Sam.”

“Do you have the authority?” his brother-in-law asked.

“No, but my boss does. I need to come over and show you what we've found.”

“Give me ninety minutes.” Sam said. “I'm not quite in the doghouse but I will be if I walk in my door and fifteen minutes later you're ringing the bell.”

Hotch understood. He and Jessie were usually alright. She stayed neutral for Sam’s sake, and her own sanity. He knew sometimes Haley demanded to know whose side she was on. Jessie would say Jack’s. Hotch truly respected that answer.

“Of course. I need to check on my team and have some dinner. You should probably do the same.”

“It’s after eight.” Sam replied. “My team is asleep, and I'm hungry for more than baked chicken.”

“Nice.” Hotch smirked.

“Sorry. Come on by about quarter to ten. I’ll pull out a six-pack and we’ll talk.”

“Thanks Sam.”

“That’s what brothers are for.”

There were a few men in Hotch’s life he could look to like brothers. He didn’t know what he did to deserve it but the support was indispensable.

***

The thunder made her open her eyes. Her first instinct when she saw the shadowy figure in her bedroom was to scream. It took less than a minute for her rational mind to set in.

“Hey.” She said in a sleepy voice.

“Hi.” Ian opened his eyes even though he wasn’t asleep. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t.” Emily sat up on her elbow. “The thunder did. If it gets any louder I'm sure I’ll have two bunkmates.”

“I looked in on them before I came in here.” Ian replied. “They're sound asleep.”

“For now.”

“Do they know what's happening?”

“They're very bright, Ian. Lauren told me at dinner that bad people took Declan but the good guys would get him back. Agent Hotchner thinks it's someone we might know, even in passing.”

“You didn’t let him interrogate our daughters, did you?”

“No one was interrogated. They didn’t see anything…they were hiding in the closet. Only the police questioned them and neither had a lot to say. They're just little girls.”

“I won't let them rake my family over the coals.” Ian said, his voice turning angry.

“They're not doing that.” Emily sat up in bed. “Any question they ask me is fine if it'll bring Declan back home. They want to ask you follow up questions tomorrow and you're going to answer them.”

“I’ll answer whatever they ask.” He replied, calming some. He didn’t want to fight with her. There was nothing to fight about.

“Agent Hotchner says we can go home tomorrow. I don’t know how I feel about it but the girls want to go home.”

“Then we’ll take them home.”

“You haven’t done anything crazy, have you?” she couldn’t help but ask. The elephant was in the room and it was sucking up all the oxygen. Emily needed to breathe.

“15 minutes.” Ian looked at his watch.

“Now is not the time to joke, Ian.”

“I just needed to get my thoughts together; I had to walk away. I knew my family needed me but…”

“I understand.” Emily nodded. “This is really difficult. Everyone wants to help but you just want to curl up and disappear. You walk through life, doing your thing, forgetting to do things, and taking little moments for granted. Then something so precious is snatched away from you.”

“I wish I could comfort you.” Ian replied.

“No one can comfort me.”

“Go back to sleep, babe. It’s late and you need your rest.”

“What are you going to do?” Emily asked.

She wanted so much to ask him to hold her. Never having to ask before, Emily hardly knew how. She wanted Ian to help her forget, just for a moment or two that she was free falling through the depths of hell. Every time she opened her mouth to say it, nothing came out. When had they forgotten how to talk to each other?

What would they have to go through to get back to where they used to be? Would they ever get back there or was it as good as over? Unable to bear it anymore, Emily stretched out her hands to him. Ian grasped her, fingers intertwined, and held on tight.

They didn’t move for the longest time. Then Emily pulled him toward her. Ian got out of the chair but he couldn’t do it. He broke the hold, nearly crying out in agony when their hands came apart.

“You need to sleep, Emily.” He reasoned.

“I keep having the most horrible dreams. I don’t want to close my eyes.”

“Just try.” Ian sat in the chair again. “I’ll watch over you and keep the bad things away.”

Sighing, Emily laid down in the bed. She pulled the sheet over her but doubted sleep would really come.

“I love you, Ian.”

That got him off the chair. He knelt by the bed, his hands on either side of her face. He was so angry, full of rage at what was happening to them. He wanted his son back…wanted his wife back. The other part of him just sought solace. The only place he’d ever found it was with Emily. How was it possible for one little woman to quiet all of those big demons?

“I love you too. Go to sleep so we can be one day closer to bringing Declan home.”

She nodded, leaning in and stealing a kiss.

“You're a sneaky girl.” Ian almost managed a smile.

“Promise me you won't leave.” Emily whispered.

“The devil himself can't take me away from you anymore.”

Satisfied, she closed her eyes. She felt safer knowing he was home and that they were together. This wasn’t something she could go through alone. Emily was strong but there were some things that even the strength of an army couldn’t defeat.

***

“Holy hell.” Sam slowly leafed through the pages in the folder. “I had some thoughts but they weren't even close to this. Are you sure this can't be a mistake?”

“While not perfect, Penelope Garcia rarely makes mistakes.” Hotch drank his beer. “She had to dig deep to find these worms.”

“I’d say these are more like three-headed serpents. Home grown terrorism is the new black.”

“He's not quite homegrown.”

“His family is. Do you think he started a family to keep up appearances? Lots of these guys do.”

“You were the one who told me that their relationship was not a show for the spectators.”

“Yeah, but now…” Sam shook his head. “I don’t know what the hell I was seeing and what to believe.”

“Do you think Emily knows anything about this?” Hotch asked.

“Hell no; she's not like that. Look, I can admit to be being rather clueless about Ian but I knew he wasn’t quite right. I'm not a profiler but Emily doesn’t fit that profile at all. She thinks he travels for work. He has the money and legitimate ventures to prove it. She wouldn’t be married to this monster, I'm sure of that.”

“Our suspect pool just expanded by God knows what. It’s a list too long for us to root through in time to save Declan.”

“Lean on Doyle.” Sam replied.

“I'm going to have Morgan poke him tomorrow with some follow up questions. I have JJ talking, discreetly, with one of her contacts at State. We need more than numbers on a page for leverage.”

“When the Sheriff’s deputies lost him the other night I can just guess what he was doing.”

“Still, he can't be that far ahead of us if he didn’t bring Declan home.” Hotch said.

“He surely has some idea of where to look.” Sam said.

“We have ideas too. We need answers. It’s been 50 hours since Emily Prentiss came home and realized Declan wasn’t there.”

“What's the plan?”

Hotch wasn’t sure how to answer that question. There were four million directions they could go in with limited time and resources. So he just shook his head; Sam knew what that meant. Jessie came down the back stairs and saw her brother-in-law. She came over to kiss his cheek. That was a good sign.

“How are you, Aaron?” she asked.

“I'm alright. I apologize for taking up Sam’s time but we’re working on the Doyle kidnapping…time is of the essence.”

“I know, and I understand. That poor little boy; he's a real sweetheart. Emily must be inconsolable. I’d be losing my mind if anything happened to my boys.”

Other than Michael, who was seven, Sam and Jessie had a set of twins. Chase and Keegan were almost four. They really were the image of the Doyle family. Well, minus the political influence and sudden terrorist connections. In the suburbs everyone seemed the same until you dug a little in the dirt and found their roots.

“Emily is very strong.” Hotch replied. “She's holding her head up and helping us in every way she can. We’ll do everything we can to bring Declan home.”

“Sam, I don’t want to play bad wife but you need some rest. You’ve been pushing it lately.”

“I’ll be up in 20 minutes, baby. Cross my heart.”

“Alright.” Jessie nodded. “Aaron, we’d love to see you around here more often.”

“Thanks Jess.”

“I mean it. Your nephews always love having you, and so do I. We’re doing Thanksgiving here this year and you're invited. Don’t give me any excuses.”

“Yes ma'am.” Hotch nodded. He waited until Jessie was out of earshot before he spoke again. “I don’t want to get you in any trouble.”

“I've been overdoing it at work lately. When you're in the fugitive business, taking it easy isn’t always an option. Jessie wants me to slow down and in a way she's right. This one is time-sensitive though. I got a guy at Homeland Security that I trust. I’ll talk to him in the morning and see what he knows.”

“You trust a guy at Homeland Security?” Hotch raised an eyebrow.

“Russ is the world’s greatest paper pusher.” Sam replied. “He’s high-grade classified because he earned it the hard way. He’s one of the good guys. A little OCD and a little paranoid but still one of the good guys. He’ll help me out.”

“I owe you one.”

“Oh please…you know we don’t roll that way.”

“I'm glad because actually I think I owe you a thousand.” Hotch smirked. He was making his way to the door when his inside pocket buzzed. He grabbed his cell phone. “Hotchner.”

“Hotch, its Morgan. We think we know who Declan’s mother is.”

“I'm heading back to Quantico now.” he looked at Sam after he hung up. “We might have a break.”

“Let me know.”

“We’ll talk tomorrow. Tonight, you focus on Jessie.”

“There's not much of tonight left.” Sam replied.

“If I remember you and Jessie, it’s all about quality over quantity. Isn’t it?”

Sam smiled a little, patting his best friend’s back. Hotch headed back to work and hoped the team had enough to break this case open. He was tired of more questions than answers.

***

“You a real cop?” Lauren asked, putting her hands on her hips as she stared up at him.

“I'm not a cop, I'm in the FBI.” Morgan replied. He tried not to grin but couldn’t help it. This one was a spitfire. He stood in the living room waiting to speak to Ian Doyle. Two Fairfax County Sheriff’s deputies and two FBI agents were there setting up taps and traces for a possible ransom call. Morgan didn’t think that call was coming.

“What's that mean? You gotta gun?”

“Yes ma'am.”

“And where’s your badge?”

“I don’t have a badge.” Morgan shook his head.

“Well that’s lame.” She made a face. “Cops always have badges. It’s so we’ll know they're good guys. How do I know you're a good guy?”

“I have my ID.”

He pulled it out of his back pocket, flashing it like a badass. Sometimes it was cool to impress people, even four year olds.

“Lemme see it.” Lauren held out her tiny hand and took the ID. “Whoa, this is cool. I take it back…you're not lame.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Do you shoot people, Mr. Morgan?” she handed the ID back.

“How did you know my name?”

“It’s on your ID silly.” Lauren giggled.

She’d just turned four in August but she could read. That meant she could at the very least be eligible for a cognitive interview. He doubted Hotch would go for it and knew Emily Prentiss wouldn’t. It was something they didn’t like to do if the child was under ten. Also, Lauren wasn’t a victim so there was a chance of her being traumatized while not adding anything significant.

“So, do you shoot people or not?” she pressed.

“He’ll shoot you if you ask too many questions.” Ian replied, walking into the living room.

“Nuh uh, Daddy!”

“Off with you, wee one.” He smiled at his daughter. “Grownups have to talk in here.”

“OK. Bye Mr. Morgan!” Lauren waved happily before turning and running out of the room.

“Bye Lauren.” He turned to Ian. “I'm glad you could make some time to talk this afternoon.”

“You said you had some follow up questions.” Ian crossed his arms. “I thought I answered everything the other night.”

“The truth of the matter is we’re pretty sure that what happened to Declan wasn’t a stranger abduction.” Morgan replied.

“OK.”

“Agent Hotchner has talked pretty extensively to your wife about anyone in her life, past or present, who could be capable of something like this. She came up blank.”

“OK.”

“What about you, Mr. Doyle? To be straight, the business you're in skates a fine line between legal and not so much. Lots of money exchanges hands for all kinds of reasons. Maybe a deal went bad, someone lost too much, and thinks this is the only viable payback. I hear you're a shark…people don’t want to cross you.”

“So don’t you think taking my boy is the stupidest thing they could’ve done?” Ian asked. “I truly can't think of anyone. It’s been a long time since my business was win-lose. I'm doing quite well for myself and my family.”

“Does Declan have any contact with his mother?” Morgan asked. This guy was really pissing him off.

“Emily is his mother.”

“We know she adopted Declan after you were married. I'm talking about his biological mother.”

“Emily’s his mother…his biological mother is dead.”

“OK.” Morgan nodded. “What about people in Louise’s life, Mr. Doyle? Did she have friends, family, or anyone she spent personal time with? If she’d been with Declan since birth harming him would hurt her. She was beaten to death and it looked personal.”

“We were Louise’s friends and family. I wish I had better answers but I don’t. I want my son back so if I think of anything, I’ll be sure to contact you. Do you have any information or are you still just asking a bunch of questions?”

“We’re running down a few viable leads, yes. Our intent is to bring Declan home and bring to justice anyone involved in the kidnapping, directly or indirectly.”

“That’s my intent as well. Is there anything else, Agent Morgan?”

“Not right now but we’ll be in touch.”

“Do you really think there will be a ransom call?” Ian could hardly hold back his disdain as he looked at the officers. “I didn’t think Agent Hotchner wanted us to come home just for this spectacle.”

“Even though it’s been 72 hours, a call is still probable. Declan comes from a wealthy family with politically influential outer layers. We won't rule out anything.”

Ian nodded but the skepticism came off him in waves. “You’ll see yourself out, Agent?” he asked.

Morgan nodded, watching him walk back toward the den where he could hear the little girls playing. He grabbed his cell phone from his hip as he walked out of the door.

“Hotch, he's definitely being vague on purpose. He would've done better to say kiss my ass I'm not answering anything. We’re not going to get anywhere with Doyle without serious leverage. Let’s move on.”

“We’re almost ready to move.”

Morgan hung up and climbed into his SUV. Clouds gathered while he was inside; it had begun to drizzle.

Inside the house, Ian was checking his phone too. There were no messages on voice or text. He was not used to waiting and didn’t like this.

“Where did Mr. Morgan go?” Lauren asked her father.

“He has work to do.”

“Is he going to shoot the bad people, Daddy?”

“No more questions about shooting people.” He crouched down and caressed her face. “Mummy will not be happy if she hears that kind of talk. Where is Mummy anyway?”

“She's in the kitchen. She doesn’t feel good.”

“Alright. Look after your sister and play fair.”

Ian kissed her and walked into the kitchen. Sure enough, Emily was sitting at the table. Her face was in her hands and she wasn’t moving. Ian put his hand on her shoulder.

“I'm OK.” She mumbled.

“You're not OK, babe. I’ll look after the girls and you can rest.”

“I took some medication.” Emily looked at him with bleary eyes. “I'm going to be OK.”

“Don’t make me put you over my shoulder, woman.” Ian said. “I can take care of Lauren and Leith. Go to bed, draw the shades, and give the medicine a chance to work.”

“They should have dinner soon.”

Emily stood and her legs felt wobbly. Maybe she should let Ian throw her over his shoulder. Emily was hardly sure she’ll make it up the stairs. And there was this knot in the pit of her stomach that a ransom call would come and she’d miss it. She needed to be alert and aware…something was about to happen. Emily didn’t know how she knew that but she did.

“Emily, I'm going to take care of everything. It’s a couple of hours…we’ll be fine.”

She nodded. There was nothing else to do other than collapse. Emily would feel a lot better if she didn’t do that in front of her daughters. It had been three days and no change. They had no idea where her son was; if he was alive or dead. Maybe they did but just weren't telling her. Whatever it was, Emily wanted to know. She had to know.

“OK, I'm going.”

“Thank you.” Ian kissed her forehead. “You need to rest.”

“I know.”

Emily sighed and moved toward the back stairs. Who knew if she would really rest, it was doubtful. But a little quiet and darkness would be good for her. She squeezed Ian’s hand, holding on for a while before walking away. Ian still held her and brushed her knuckles across his lips. There was plenty to say but now wasn’t the time. Emily needed to rest and he would take care of everything else.

***

On Saturday morning, Derek Morgan walked into an interrogation room at the Behavioral Analysis Unit and looked at Ian Doyle. The man looked bored and just studied the nails on his handcuffed hands.

“I've seen some of your handiwork.” He threw the manila folder on the table. Inside were pictures from the 2007 bombing of the Hilton Hotel in downtown Odessa, Ukraine. 35 people were killed and nearly 100 injured. Some radical fringe group claimed responsibility but now the FBI was almost entirely sure that Ian Doyle supplied them with what they needed for their deadly attack.

“I have no idea what you're talking about, Agent Morgan.”

“Go ahead and tell me you're a legitimate businessman and any connection with would be or alleged terrorists is purely coincidental.”

“I'm not telling you that. I'm not telling you anything. You think you know me, fine, you know me. I hope your rush to judgment about me doesn’t prevent you from doing everything you can to save my son. This isn’t about me, this is about Declan.”

“We’ve been working to find Declan but we’re not going to be able to do this alone, Doyle. Someone out there hates you. They may have a right to do that. But they hate you so much that this was the only way to get back at you. Why don’t you tell us about it?”

“I'm not a man people like to cross, Agent Morgan. No matter my business, my family is off limits.”

“Not anymore Doyle…the game has changed. You went off the radar for 48 hours. Tell me what you were doing.”

“I'm a free man, at least I was then. I don’t have to account for my time to you.”

“A wire transfer says you were reaching out to Dale Shrader. Amongst other dubious distinctions, he’s known as a finder of lost things.”

“Really? So you think he might be able to procure the Degas sculpture I'm interested in? That’s good to know.”

“Stop playing games with me.” Morgan banged his fist on the table. “This kidnapping wasn’t amateur hour. It was well planned and meticulously executed, including the poisoning of 25 schoolchildren. Your nanny was beaten within an inch of her life before the slashing of her throat nearly to decapitation put her out of her misery. Tom Kohler walked in on the beginning or the aftermath…and was viciously stabbed for his trouble. Do I need to remind you that the police found your four year old daughters hiding in a bedroom closet?”

“Are you coming to a point, Agent Morgan?” he asked.

“Who's Declan’s mother?” Derek asked.

“She's dead.”

“Does the dead woman have a name?”

“What does it matter?” Ian countered. “She's dead.”

Morgan fought the urge to punch his lights out. Was the man a sociopath? His son was out there somewhere, most likely with people who had murder on their mind, and he didn’t bat an eyelash. Morgan turned and walked out of the room. This was going nowhere…Doyle wasn’t going to help them. In the end, saving his own ass was more valuable than saving his son.

“We’re going to let Emily talk to him.” Hotch said as he and Emily walked toward Morgan.

“I don't think that’s a good idea.” Morgan shook his head.

“He never lies to me, Agent Morgan.” She said.

“What about failing to mention he was a terrorist… _allegedly_?”

“I wasn’t lying when I told you that I'm not privy to all of Ian’s business dealings. And I really don’t have the time to whip out my measuring stick with you. While my husband has never had a problem defending himself, my little boy is up against forces beyond his comprehension. Just let me do this.”

“The decision has already been made.” Hotch replied, looking at Morgan when he said it. “Emily, if you feel yourself getting too emotional or losing control of the situation, get up and walk out.”

“I can handle it.” she took a deep breath, putting her hand on the knob. “Will you be listening?”

“We’ll hear every word.” Morgan said.

“Good.” She took one more breath and walked into the room. Ian stood when he saw her. He opened his mouth to speak but Emily shook her head. “Sit down, Ian.”

He did. She opened the manila folder she’d been carrying and pushed it in front of him. There were pictures of six women, all of whom bore an uncanny resemblance to Emily. It seemed as if every man had a type. Ian Doyle was no exception.

“Which one of these women is Declan’s mother?” she asked.

Without taking his eyes off his wife, Ian pointed to the woman in the middle of the bottom row. “Chloe Donaghy.”

“She's not dead, is she?” Emily asked.

“She is to me.” he replied.

“And you never once felt the need to mention her to me? You told me an elaborate lie about her death, leaving us all vulnerable to her wrath. She's back Ian and she took our son. She also murdered people we love and poisoned 25 innocent schoolchildren.”

“She doesn’t give a damn about Declan, I assure you. She would've rather died than have him.”

“So what's all this Ian? Is it another elaborate lie?”

“She never loved him, not even in the womb. I caught her trying to overdose on pills before she was even out of her first trimester. I forced her to spit them out…she wasn’t killing my son. How could anyone want to do something so barbaric? I took her out to the Irish countryside to convalesce. Louise kept a watchful eye on her.”

“You held a woman hostage for nine months?” Emily’s tone was incredulous. “Some countries call that kidnapping and torture.”

“It was seven months and we’re talking about the life of my son. He’s our son, Emily. Forgive me if he meant more to me than that whore ever could.”

“Was Louise there when Declan was born?”

“Yes. And as soon as Chloe was well enough she was in the wind. I compensated her for her time.”

“She's been plotting against you from the moment she left that countryside, Ian. She's just been lurking, waiting for the right moment to strike. Who knows how long she’s been watching us.”

“If she has Declan it has nothing to do with maternal love.” Ian replied. “All Chloe cares about is money. It’s all she ever cared about.”

“So it’s about money and revenge. She takes your heir and offers him to the highest bidder. Who hates you enough, and has enough money, to play her game?”

“I swear to God, I don't know. Anyone with half a brain knows harming my family is an offense punishable by an ugly death.”

“Make a short list.” Emily pushed a piece of paper in front of him. “It’s a man and most likely he doesn’t have the balls that Chloe has. He's got the money and the vengeance though.”

Ian nodded. He scribbled down seven names, pushing the paper back. Most of the people who had that kind of vengeance were already dead. Ian didn’t like leaving people around who could hurt him. But there were still a few left, even if he didn’t suspect any of them had anything to do with this. They were the weak links; hadn't even been worth the kill.

“Yes, I lied to you about Chloe. That’s the only lie I ever told you.”

“I bet in your mind that you truly believe that.”

Emily took the folder, the paper, and walked out of the room. She handed it to Hotch. He handed it to Morgan and neither man could hide how impressed they were with how she did.

“I'm the child of diplomats.” Emily replied. “Tough negotiations are second nature to me. I never truly thought I’d be doing it with my husband.”

“Give that piece of paper to Garcia. We need to find Chloe and her partner now.”

Morgan nodded and walked away. Hotch looked at Emily, who was doing her best not to look like a sandcastle about to blow away in a fierce wind.

“Is there anyone I can call for you?” he asked. “I don’t know if being alone right now is the best idea.”

“I'm not alone, Agent Hotchner, I'm in a room fill of FBI agents.” She turned to look at her husband behind the glass.

Ian looked tired and defeated. Emily wanted nothing more than to rush in and wrap her arms around him. It wouldn’t be the first time she gave him enough energy to get to the next stop. Emily didn’t think there was a next stop after this.

“Are you sure?” he placed a tentative hand on her shoulder.

“Yes.” The smile she was attempting came out all wrong. “I just hope the information helps to find Declan. Right now that’s all I care about.”

“You can sit in my office.” Hotch started walking and she followed. “I'm going to work with my team on those names. We won't stop until we have the answers.”

“Thank you for everything. And I need to apologize for slapping you earlier. While I can't exactly say that behavior isn’t in my nature, none of this is your fault. You’ve worked tirelessly for my family and my son.”

“Apology accepted.” Hotch opened his door. “Have a seat in here. I’ll be back in a little while. You'll have privacy in case you want to make some phone calls. And you can call me Hotch. You can if you'd like anyway…since I call you Emily.”

This time the smile was a bit more genuine as Emily sat down on the couch. Hotch closed the door, quickly walking to the conference room where his team was gathered.

“Lachlan McDermott.” Morgan said.

“Damn that was fast, even for Garcia.” Hotch replied, looking at the tech analyst. “Do you think he's the one?”

“Morgan thought we should start with Irish connections. Allegedly Ian killed Lachlan’s brother 25 years ago in a weekend of violence in Belfast.” Penelope said as her hands moved over her computer keys with lightning speed and efficiency. “He was never charged, there was too much chaos, but the McDermott family always believed it was him. Ian and Jimmy had beef going back to their childhood years. Lachlan is in the import business, as it was, which means he has plenty of money to throw around. It’s enough to pay for the life of a seven year old.”

“What's his connection to Chloe Donaghy?” Hotch asked.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” JJ replied. “She needed a benefactor and he needed a sociopath.”

“Not to mention of one of McDermott’s warehouses, right outside of Atlanta, was shut down a few years back after police found eight Belarusian women inside. They weren't able to charge him because other than paying for the space he had no connections to the area. The Feds made it a footnote in a bigger sting of human trafficking into the U.S.” Garcia said.

“Chloe did three years for international prostitution and trafficking.” Morgan finished.

“Three years?” Hotch couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “That’s peanuts.”

“She played the victim.” JJ replied. “And the Attorney General wanted big fish so she cried and rolled.”

“She seems to make a habit out of attaching to men and bleeding them dry.” Garcia said. “She met her match with Doyle.”

“And they procreated.” Hotch said quietly. “Does McDermott own anything local?”

“There's a warehouse on the inner harbor of Baltimore just purchased three weeks ago. I don’t have an address, just a location of the South Harbor.”

“Wheels up in 30.”

“Hotch?” Morgan’s voice stopped his Unit Chief in his tracks. “What's the plan? Are we just supposed to roll up, guns blazing? The last thing we want or need is multiple casualties.”

“McDermott wants Doyle and Chloe wants her revenge. We give them what they want and get Declan back safely.”

“A trade?” JJ raised an eyebrow. “That’s incredibly risky.”

“What other choice do we have?”

“When a mother kidnaps a child, no matter her state of mind, typically it’s a low risk to the wellbeing of the child.” Reid said.

“The woman has international trafficking and prostitution ties.” Hotch said. “She could have Declan tricked out in Bangkok before breakfast. And God only knows what McDermott would do to him. It’s been 72 hours; they have to move it or lose it.

“We need to get to them first. We don’t call Baltimore PD until we’re on the scene. No one needs some cop who’s ready for his close-up. Morgan, call Sam Kassmeyer…I want him with us. McDermott and Chloe both have to be wanted in at least a dozen countries, including ours.”

“What about Emily Prentiss?” JJ asked.

“She just wants her son back.” Hotch said. “I'm going to talk to Doyle one more time. This might be his last chance to do something even close to redeemable.”

***

“I would like to reiterate that this is a bad idea.” Sam said, strapping on his Kevlar. “She's a civilian. If she's hurt…”

“She won't get out of the car.” Hotch reasoned.

“You don’t know Emily Prentiss like I do. When she wants something she goes after it hard. She wants her son back and we’re going to get him. You really expect her to stay in the car while we do it? Really?”

“Look, Sam…”

“You always do this you know? You're a walking contradiction. You're a by the book rule breaker; a suit wearing cowboy.”

“I am not…”

“You are!” Sam exclaimed. “If you're letting Emily come then you have to babysit her. We’re dealing with two people who have little to no regard for human life. And Ian Doyle isn’t above trying to make an escape to freedom.”

“Hey Starsky and Hotch,” Morgan poked his head into the office. “Its time.”

Hotch nodded and watched Morgan leave.

“These could be her last moments with him.” Hotch said. “We don’t know how things are going to go at that warehouse. No matter what, Ian Doyle is going to jail forever and deservedly so. These could be her last moments with him.”

“You sound like…” Sam sighed, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Let’s just do this. And your impassioned speech in no way, shape, or form, gets you out of babysitting her.”

“So noted. You got my back?” Hotch asked.

“I got it till my dying breath. You got mine?”

“At least until The Police reunite…oh wait, that’s done. OK, until the Sox…nevermind.”

“C'mon you bastard.” Sam left the room grinning and Hotch was right behind him.

It was time to end this. They surely hadn't started it, as was usually the case. But it was over as of tonight. Declan Doyle had no place in the middle of this street battle between thugs. Hotch wanted to bring his home to his mother and sisters where he belonged. Then they could put Ian Doyle, and anyone associated with him, under the jail.

***

“I don’t want you to do this.” Emily whispered. She and Ian were in the backseat of an SUV with tinted windows. Sam and Hotch sat in the front as they drove from the airstrip to the Inner Baltimore Harbor. “These people want you dead, Ian.”

“Who are you talking about, McDermott or the so-called good guys?”

Emily shook her head. There was so much she wanted to say while at the same time beating the hell out of him. All of his demons brought them to this place. No one was perfect but apparently Ian Doyle was a monster. She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around that. He was the father of her children.

He was the man who made her laugh and still gave her the good butterflies. Emily had a few deep secrets that she never shared with him. She’d never shared them with anyone. But his secrets were completely different. His secrets got people killed. His secrets were the things she watched on the news every night.

“Whatever happens, I love you. I love the Ian I knew for all of these years. If you’ve done the things they accuse you of I hope you burn in hell. But I still love you.”

Ian just leaned and kissed her shoulder. He was handcuffed so he couldn’t hold her and words were useless. There were still many on the tip of his tongue. They were being watched and listened to…their goodbye was none of Aaron Hotchner’s business. But he wanted to know what she would someday tell their children about him?

Would it be the same lies his mother told, of revolutionaries and freedom fighters? What if the Feds tried to wrap Emily and her important family up in this mess? What if they didn’t get there in time and Declan was dead? Would it be the fault of Ian’s anger and pride? That was unacceptable.

The SUV rolled to a stop on the gravel outside of the docks. Emily turned and gripped Ian’s face. She knew she would be stuck in the car. It was killing her but she made a promise. She was lucky they brought her at all.

“Bring my son back to me.” she said.

“I will.”

She kissed him passionately, not caring about the audience, and whispered that she loved him. Ian pulled his wedding band off and handed it to her.

“No, Ian…”

“Just hold onto it for me. Never forget the day you slipped it on my finger and we pledged our lives to each other. I swear I meant every word I said then. I mean it now.”

“Me too.” Emily bit back her tears. She could handle this.

Sam got out of the passenger side of the car. He opened the back door, pulling out Ian. Then they were gone and Hotch and Emily was alone. The silence was heavy and deafening.

“Are you sure we can't…?”

“Whatever you're thinking, get it off your mind.” Hotch replied, locking the doors just to be sure.

“I'm not going to try anything.”

Hotch nodded, looking at her in his rearview mirror. They just say there in silence, waiting for it all to be over. The Baltimore PD and S.W.A.T. showed up to provide the proper backup. He got out of the car to have a lengthy conversation with the team leader. Emily thought about running. She thought hard about it.

She just wanted her son back and for the first time since Tuesday it felt within her grasp. But she knew Hotch put his job at risk by letting her tag along. She wouldn’t return the favor by risking the lives of his teammates. It was also risking her life, Ian’s, and Declan’s. While patience wasn’t her strong suit, tonight Emily would have to grin and bear it.

“What did he say?” she asked when Hotch got back in the SUV.

“He wanted to discuss tactical positions. There are snipers all over this place now. Hopefully it’ll all be over soon.”

There was more sitting and more waiting. Emily tried not to fidget, knowing she couldn’t even have a clove. Hotch sat in the front seat looking stoic but she was dying to know what he was thinking. He’d been here before, maybe hundreds of times.

Did these things end well? Badly? A little bit of both with a side dish of chaos? Would she ever hold her son, or her husband, again? Just when Emily thought she couldn’t take it anymore, a voice came over Hotch’s walkie-talkie.

“We have a problem.” The voice said.

“What is it, Sam?” Hotch spoke into the walkie-talkie. He turned the volume down but Emily was less than five feet away. She was probably going to hear the entire conversation.

“You need to bring Emily here.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She wants Emily.” Sam replied.

“Who is she?”

“Chloe Donaghy.”

“And the game is being played by her rules now?” Hotch asked. He sighed and got out of the SUV. Emily definitely didn’t need to be hearing this.

“They are if we want Declan back. Hotch, we’re all standing here guns drawn. We need Emily here. Now.”

“This is not good.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. We’re on the south side, by the water. You need to come now.”

“Have you seen Declan? Is he alive?”

“We have proof of life yes.” Sam lowered his voice. “We can't make this exchange, I think you know that. I don’t know how this is going to end.”

“We’re on our way.”

Hotch opened the back door and Emily just looked at him.

“What's happening, Hotch?”

“We have to go.”

“Where? I'm not leaving until I have my son.”

“We’re going to get him. Chloe Donaghy wants a showdown and a show. I have no idea what's going to happen but its happening and we have to go.”

“Lets go.” Emily jumped out of the SUV without a second thought.

“You're a brave woman, but I can't guarantee that what you're about to experience won't haunt you for the rest of your life.”

“It'll be easier to move on from than a life without my son.” she replied.

Hotch nodded. He had one of the police officer supply her with a bulletproof vest. Then they were walking into the Inner Harbor and toward only God knew what. This was Hotch’s fault.

If anything happened to Emily or Declan he would never forgive himself for what he’d put them in the middle of. He lost enough sleep at night over the losses. He wasn’t going to lose these two even if he had to stand in front of the bullet himself. They walked around forever but it didn’t take long to find the scene.

McDermott had Declan Doyle by the scruff of his neck. He had a gun to the terrified boy’s head. His blonde hair had been dyed auburn, most likely to make it easier to smuggle him out of the country. Chloe was there too and her gun was primed and ready. The look on her face could only be described as a sneer when she was finally close to Emily Prentiss.

“Well look who it is.” She said in a thick Irish brogue. “It’s the woman he loves.”

“You're a stupid woman, Chloe.” Ian’s voice was threatening.

“I came for my son.” Emily stepped forward but Hotch put his arm across her chest.

“Give us the boy, and you can have what you want.” Hotch said. “Make your decision and make it fast.”

“He loves you more than life you know.” Chloe went on as if Hotch hadn't spoken. “You think it’s the kids or the money or the thrill of being a bad boy…but it's you. It’s been you since the moment he laid eyes on you. I often wondered what it would do to him to watch the light extinguish from your eyes.”

“Don’t even think about it, Donaghy.” Morgan said. “You're outmanned and outgunned. Give us Declan and this can end peaceably.”

“You think I’ll ever have peace?” Chloe asked, lifting her arms to emphasis her anger.

Then there was a gunshot. None of them had any idea where it came from but the whole scene descended into chaos. Emily was pushed to the ground, screaming for her son. Declan cried out for his mother as gunfire crackled all around them.

There was smoke, screaming, cries of agony, and then a barrage of S.W.A.T. and police officers. This was exactly what Hotch didn’t want to happen. His worse nightmare was coming to life. All he could do was throw his body over Emily’s and hoped when the smoke cleared that everyone was still alive.

“Hold your fire!” Hotch shouted, knowing it was useless but feeling the need to do something anyway. “Hold your damn fire!”

It seemed like it took forever for silence to fall over them. He could hear crying, it sounded like Declan and Emily wasn’t moving underneath him. Hotch rolled off her and just looked. Her eyes were closed but he could see her breathing. He grabbed hold of her.

“Emily? Emily, are you alright?”

“I'm alright.” She nodded. “Where’s Declan?” jumping up, Emily was surprised when her legs almost came from under her. Hotch was there to keep her from hitting the ground again. “Declan! Declan!”

“Mommy!”

He was screeching. Emily, Hotch, and Sam all rushed to him at the same time. Lachlan McDermott was dead; his body had fallen on the little boy in the midst of the chaos. Hotch pulled McDermott off while Sam pulled Declan out. A cursory examination saw no gunshot wounds. The blood all over his tee shirt wasn’t his own. Emily just pulled him to her and held on for dear life.

“Oh sweetie, I wasn’t going to stop until I found you.”

“I was scared, Mommy.” Declan held on too.

“You don’t have to be scared anymore. I promise you, you don’t have to be scared anymore.”

Derek walked over and spoke to Hotch in a low voice. Emily still heard everything he said.

“Chloe’s in the wind. She can't get far…we hope.”

“I want roadblocks, helicopters, and every cop in the city looking for her.” Hotch said. “Sam, alert the Marshals. We’ve got a dangerous fugitive on the loose.”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded and got on his cell phone.

“Where’s Ian?” Emily turned to Morgan.

“Emily…”

“Where is Ian?” she demanded louder.

“Not in front of Declan.” Hotch said, putting a hand on Emily’s shoulder. “JJ.”

She came over and carefully separated the mother and son. Hotch crouched down and talked to Declan.

“My name is Hotch and I'm in the FBI. This is Agent Jareau and she’s going to take you someplace safe. The doctors are going to have a look at you to make sure you're OK and then your mom is going to come and get you. Everything is going to be alright.”

He looked at his mother and all Emily could do was nod. She had no idea what was going on but it went without saying that everything was not going to be alright. As soon as JJ took Declan away, she stood there with the three law enforcement officers and wanted to know what was going on now.

“Ian took off after Chloe, at least he tried to.” Morgan said. “I put a bullet in his leg but it didn’t stop him.”

“They couldn’t have gotten far.” Sam said. “There's a lot of dock and the place is crawling with cops.”

“She could’ve planned a water escape.” Hotch said.

“Perhaps she had before the heat was on.” Morgan replied. “It would be stupid to do it now. The Coast Guard would stop her before she got out of the Harbor.”

“How far could Ian really get if he was injured?” Emily asked.

“It depends on the severity of the injury.” Sam said. “Is the bullet still in him, is it a bleeder, how determined was he to kill Chloe. There are a lot of factors.”

“I don’t think he got far.” Morgan said. “I can't say about Chloe…I don’t know if she was injured or not. She's also the type to have at least three or four routes of escape based on four or five different scenarios. She might know these docks and this area well. She had at least a month or so to get it together.”

“Emily, we need to get you out of here.” Hotch said. “I’ll take you to the hospital myself. There’s no need to get the Baltimore PD involved in this.”

“I'm not going anywhere until you find Ian.” She said.

“You shouldn’t even have been here in the first place.” Sam reasoned. He was glaring at Hotch when he said it even if he didn’t mean to. “You need to get out of here and be with your son. Ian is our problem now…he's in federal custody.”

“Don’t let them shoot him Sam.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen.” He said. “But you have to know he won't be the type to just surrender. You know him well.”

“No I don’t.” Emily shook her head. “But he's still my husband.”

“We’ll handle things from here. You should be with Declan now.”

She nodded and started to walk away. Hotch was with her, wasn’t sure if she would have another dizzy spell or whatever it was she had a few minutes before.

“You should probably be here doing your job.” Emily said as they weaved their way through the darkened warehouses and the tons of police officers. “You don’t have to babysit the terrorist’s wife anymore.”

“Why would you even say something like that?” Hotch asked.

“That’s what I’ll be in the _Baltimore Sun_ by the morning edition I'm sure. FBI nabs international terrorist, in-law to influential DC insiders. Am I close?”

“You're way off.” he shook his head. “I didn’t know you were the type that gave a damn about headlines.”

She stopped and turned to look at him.

“Do you have children, Hotch?”

“I have a son.”

“How old is he?” Emily asked.

“He's six now.”

“That means he can read. My son is seven, my daughters are four, and they can all read. They can watch the news and somehow know what every face you make means. That’s what I care about.”

“I won't let you, or them, become headlines.” He said. “This isn’t about you; it’s about Ian. He made his mistakes and he’ll live with it. You shouldn’t have to.”

“I'm sure I shouldn’t have to live with a lot of things that I do.” Emily replied.

“C'mon, I’ll take you to the hospital to be with Declan. Let this moment be about what you’ve wanted for the past three days. The other moments will come in their own due time.”

Emily turned and started walking again. How was it possible to be hopeful, sad, hopeless, and happy all in the same breath? Declan was alright but Ian was missing and injured. The life she’d lived for the past seven years was a lie but somehow still the truth. All the things Emily swore would never consume her, the politics, the headlines, the BS…it was all about to swallow her whole.

And in the middle of the inferno there was this man that she didn’t even know existed a week ago. He was standing right inside the fire with her. Sure, Aaron Hotchner was doing his job. She could tell he was damn good at it.

But there was something more. He didn’t like the sins of the father being heaped upon his unsuspecting loved ones. He wasn’t going to let Emily Prentiss become a Leno joke or the subject of an inquest. At least that’s what he said.

Ian said a lot of things over the years as well. One thing Emily knew, friend or foe, she wasn’t going to depend on Aaron Hotchner or anyone else. She was going to depend on herself, like she always had. Like she used to before she forgot. Let her never, ever forget again.

***

It was cold and raining but they still stood on the back deck enjoying a beer. Inside they could hear the sounds of their sons enjoying the games that little boys loved to play. Jessie was inside too with her best friend Desi, who brought her own six year old to dinner. For Hotch it hadn't been a bad Thanksgiving. He talked himself out of going to his sister-in-law at least thirteen times.

Jessie’s final voicemail, which was slightly threatening while still managing to be friendly, convinced him otherwise. So he went. He went and broke bread with his ex-wife and her new, more attentive husband. It wasn’t easy but he had his best friend and son there to keep him sane. Desi and her husband Rick also attended, and so Hotch wouldn’t feel alone Jessie invited her single friend Megan Kane.

Megan had only been in the DC area for six months; she was a transplant from Dallas. Hotch smelled a hookup and avoided it like the clap. It didn’t take much time for Megan’s pleasant and slightly off-color personality to calm him down. She didn’t want to be the single friend either. She suggested that she and Hotch join forces but to do so in full protest of what was being thrust upon them.

He liked that she went for the beer instead of the wine. He liked that Haley glared at her but Megan just smiled. He really liked how she looked in a green ribbed sweater. The woman wasn’t hard on the eyes. That didn’t mean he needed someone in his life right now.

Yes, it had been four years since his divorce but that didn’t make it any easier. Jessie said he was only hurting himself by maintaining his divorced, tortured persona. Hotch felt some type of way about that description but she wasn’t way off. Even Jack commented how pretty and nice Megan was.

That caused more glaring from his mother’s end of the table. Haley and her husband Steve left a couple of hours ago, leaving Jack with his father until Saturday evening. Megan stayed another half hour to chat Hotch up. She left having beaten him in the best of five thumb wrestling matches, an infinite number of Rochambeau showdowns, and with his private cell phone number.

“She asked me to lunch sometime.” Hotch said.

“Yeah?” Sam looked at him. “What did you say?”

“I said sure. That’s interested but noncommittal right?”

“I have no idea why you're asking me. She’s pretty.”

“Yes.” Hotch nodded. “But she's also funny, smart, and a little different. I’d like her better if she were maybe a redhead.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I'm done with blondes…so done.”

“You’ve only ever been with one.” Sam reasoned.

“And we see how well that went.”

“Aaron…”

“I don’t blame Haley for leaving me. You might be the only person who believes me when I say that, Sam. I can remember a time when I was an attentive, loving husband who came home at a decent hour. That time is a long time gone. What I can't stand is how she did it and some of the things that came after. Morgan said I can't let her be my Kim Novak. I tend to agree with him.”

“Me too.” Sam nodded.

“That still doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like Megan better if she were a redhead.”

“That also means you're not letting Haley be your Kim Novak. If you were, Megan being a blonde would only attract you more.”

“See why we’re best friends.” Hotch said. “You fully comprehend the ridiculous Hitchcock references my life has become.”

“I do what I can.”

They were quiet for a little while and then Hotch looked at him. He wanted to say something. He wanted to say it for almost a week but somehow hadn't managed it. That was a weird thing when it came to Sam. Hotch told him everything…he was the only person in the world he could. Still, this had yet to come out of his mouth.

“Just say it.” Sam said.

“I hate you.”

“I know, but just say it anyway.”

“I'm going to see Emily Prentiss on Sunday.” Hotch exhaled. It was out, he couldn’t put it back, and that was a good thing.

“Have you talked to her since…?”

“No. She and her children needed space to breathe.”

“Declan is back in school.” Sam replied. “I've talked to her a few times but she's still hiding out. I know that she took a leave of absence from her job to focus on making sure her kids were alright. Declan is going to play some hockey this winter. Mickey is too and guess who’s doing some more volunteer coaching.”

“Where do you find the time?” Hotch asked.

“I have less travel in my job than you do. I spend enough time on planes but I'm home enough to do this too.”

“Do you think I shouldn’t see Emily Prentiss?”

“What do you care what I think?” Sam countered.

“I don’t think you’ve ever asked me a question that dumb before.”

“All I'm saying is that what I think shouldn’t matter. I know what this case did to you, Aaron. You don’t need it weighing on your soul. If seeing Emily and knowing she's going to make it can help you feel better than you need to do it.”

“You know her better than I do. Is she alright?”

“Emily Prentiss is a mystery wrapped in an enigma. I honestly don’t know if she's alright. One thing I know for sure though, she’ll fake it until she makes it.”

“I think all of us are doing that some of the time.” Hotch replied.

“There you go.”

“Dad!” Jack poked his head out of the sliding glass door. “Dad, c'mon, we’re gonna watch _The Empire Strikes Back_. C'mon Dad; c'mon Uncle Sam!”

“We’ll be right in buddy.” Hotch turned to his best friend. “This is your last chance to talk me out of it.”

“I don’t know why you expect me to do that.”

Hotch didn’t know either. Even if his best friend tried, he’d probably fail. This needed to be done, why Hotch wasn’t entirely sure. So he would do it and then be able to move on. Right? God, Hotch hoped that was the case.

***

“Hotch?” Emily was surprised when she saw him on the other side of the door.

“Hi.” He said.

“I…what are you doing here? Is this about Chloe Donaghy? Has she been apprehended?”

“No, Emily.” Hotch hadn't even thought about that. He was so busy thinking of himself that he didn’t realize that a visit from him might bring her hope that a threat to her family was now gone. Of course Emily never seemed fearful of Chloe. Still, he felt the need to apologize.

“Oh. Well, c'mon in; I'm sorry it must be cold out there.”

“A little bit.” He managed a smile as he took hold of the now open security door. It was rainy and windy. The temperatures were above freezing, which was good for the roads, but that didn’t mean people wanted to just hang out outside. “I wanted to come by and see how you were doing. I meant to a million times but…”

“I know you're a busy man.” She said. “We weren't your only case though no one in my family will ever forget what you did for us. Let me take your coat. Would you like some coffee?”

“I prefer tea if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t. Come back to the kitchen.”

Hotch followed her and was surprised at how quiet the house was. Three children lived there and yet it seemed eerily quiet. Emily must have sensed his discomfort.

“The kids are with my parents. We had Thanksgiving here this year, and there was much to be thankful for. But then on Friday morning, they took the train to New York. My parents have a condo there. They thought it would be good for the kids to see the start of the Christmas season in the Big Apple. They also thought it would be good for me to get a little time alone. I admit to being a super mom lately; not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

She stopped to put Hotch’s coat in the hall closet and then they made their way back to the kitchen. He sat at the island counter while she filled the kettle with water and put it on the stove.

“I'm sure they're happy to have you around more, considering all that’s happened.”

“I got your flowers and condolence card.” Emily replied. “I really appreciated it. I'm not even sure it’s all hit me yet. Am I a bad person for being glad he's dead in a way?”

“Wow, I don’t even know how…”

“I'm sorry. I should not have said that because anyway you do comes out wrong. I just meant that now my kids don’t have to go through what they would've had to go through. It’s not like I want to lie to them about who their father was.” Emily sighed. “It’s going to take a long time to make sense of everything. All they know right now is Daddy died to save Declan.”

“How is Declan?” Hotch asked.

“Good. My stepmother thought he should talk to someone and I agreed. So he sees a child psychologist every other week for the next 90 days. But I've been watching over him like a mama condor. Other than the occasional nightmare, he's adjusting well to being home. His grades are good, he's socializing, and he still loves his little sisters. I'm sure there will be hurdles to climb but maybe we’ll all get lucky.”

Hotch nodded and for a while they didn’t speak. Emily busied herself preparing for tea and Hotch just watched her. There was something about the way the woman moved that fascinated him. What had he come there for? He could’ve called just as easily…he could’ve called a million times. Instead he came to her door and still didn’t know what to say.

“You don’t mind if I have a clove do you?” she asked as she joined him with the tray of tea at the counter.

“This is your house.” He replied.

“Yes, but you're my guest. I won't if you mind.”

“No, I don’t mind. I think you’ve given me too much tea to choose from. Which would you recommend?”

“I'm crazy about the blackberry pomegranate.” Emily said. “My stepmother loves it. But the peach is really good as well.”

“I always imagined you as a coffee drinker.” Hotch said. He almost gave himself a good facepalm. Did he really just tell her that he imagined her?

“I can freebase coffee, and have. But I drink tea to relax. It’s either that or wine and with as much relaxing as I need to do these days, wine is not a good idea.”

“What do you do to relax?” Hotch asked. He chose the blackberry pomegranate. Dropping the bag in his teacup, he poured hot water over it.

“Right now it’s just drinking lots of tea and doing yoga. Everything is too fresh…I haven’t had time to put each detail into the little compartments of my mind and close it off. I took a leave of absence from work until the end of the year so I could be with my kids. But I think I'm ready to leave the Alliance. I'm ready to do something fresh and different.”

“Like what?” Hotch asked.

“I'm going to get my PhD; probably teach. I'm 40 and I'm starting a new profession, oh my God. But I've got a good 25 years before retirement. That’s plenty of time to do something new and creative. I'm doing it for my kids and myself.”

“It sounds wonderful. You can have adventures all day and then be home at night.”

“Your job must be pretty adventurous.” She said.

“I used to think so yeah. No,” Hotch shook his head. “It’s still a wonderful job to do. I just need to get a grasp on that ‘be home at night’ concept. Jessie keeps trying to set me up.”

That wasn’t quite true, but she’d done it three or four times, which was more than enough for Hotch.

“Run.” Emily laughed some. She lit the clove she’d been holding in her hand to that point. “My stepmother used to do the same for me. I knew she meant well but it drove me crazy. When you meet the right person, it just happens. I saw Ian across a crowded bar one night. I hadn't even wanted to go; my friends had to drag me. Like I would ever think I could marry someone I met in a bar.”

“Yeah.” he nodded. “And sometimes you meet someone intriguing but it’s the wrong time; the wrong circumstance.”

“If it’s meant to be, it'll be.”

“I think that’s only true in country songs and Hugh Grant movies.”

Now Emily really laughed. He’d never heard her laugh before and he liked it. It made him smile, the real smile where his dimples came out of their hiding places.

“I don’t like to judge but you don’t quite look like the Hugh Grant movie type to me.”

“Is it that obvious?” Hotch asked, sipping his tea. “I like Hitchcock.”

“What's your favorite?”

“There are so many to choose from but I'm a sucker for _Strangers on a Train_. Sam and I always said if our lives were different…”

“He’d be Farley Granger.” Emily replied.

“I don’t know if I liked getting pegged as Robert Walker.” Hotch said.

“Well, I don’t know you that well…it’s a cross you have to bear for the time being.”

“I think I can live with that. What’s your favorite?” he asked.

“It’s _Shadow of a Doubt_. I should've known Ian wasn’t quite right. The psychopathic, suave gentleman has kinda always been my thing.”

“Maybe it’s just Joseph Cotten that’s always been your thing.” Hotch suggested.

Emily smiled, liking that answer better. She was sure she’d spend the rest of her life wondering why she didn’t know. How could she not see what was right in front of her? She was tired of wondering today.

“If you'd like maybe we could do a Hitchcock movie marathon, you know with Sam and Jessie. It won’t be anything too fancy, just some popcorn and wine. I know you’ve been spending so much time with your kids. A night out might do you good. Not that I want to push you or anything.”

“Why did you come here today?” Emily asked.

“I didn’t like not knowing how you were doing. I blame myself for what happened on the Harbor. But I swear, I'm not trying to make amends or anything, I just…I just wanted to see how you were doing. Every conversation we have had been bad. I just wanted one to be good. Even if it’s our last; I wanted it to be good.”

“Well I like it so far.”

She smiled and he did too. They sat and talked in the kitchen for hours. Everything came up from books and movies to music and philosophy. He found out that Emily was fluent in several languages and she found out he was letting Morgan convince him to train for a triathlon.

They talked about their kids, dream vacations, and how Emily was really going to get back on her bike again. Soon it was the dinner hour and Hotch let Emily convince him to stay. Of course he didn’t mind Thanksgiving leftovers. She was so right when she said they all had much to be thankful for this year despite everything.

There was still a long road for her to walk to get through everything that happened. She wasn’t alone, there were so many people who loved her and wanted to help her to the other side. It wouldn’t be easy; sometimes the things worth having the most weren't. And what might be considered the simple things, tea, Hitchcock films, and conversation with a new friend, made whatever life handed you easier to bear.

***


End file.
